Lost In The Post
by laurakinsss
Summary: AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, “I’d go to the ends of the Earth for her,” literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search fo
1. Preface

AN:

**AN:** Sooo, as promised, here is the sequel! Dun, dun, dun. I really hope you guys enjoy it. Thanks!

**Summary: **AU. All human? Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post. Furthermore, I do not own the quotes in italics.

.:o0o:.

"_We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them,_

_we say we love trees, yet we cut them down._

_And still people wonder why some are afraid_

_when told they are loved."_

**Preface**

Fate and destiny have an odd way of shaping your life. They are but two old friends mapping revenge on every single human being on earth, plotting and planning, plotting and planning. Their logic is useless and they pay absolutely no attention to karma. But when love intervenes, it is there that they have a problem.

Because love has its own path to follow, its own fate guiding it with its own destiny to arrive at. Love will stop at nothing when it's desperately needed to bring two soul mates together again, no matter what steps in its way. It is a powerful force, stronger than a herd of rampaging rhinoceros or a tsunami designed to take out the world. Love is the strongest weapon known to mankind.

You can fight fate all you want, but love will eventually take you down.

_The torment of precautions often exceeds the dangers to be avoided. It is sometimes better to abandon one's self to destiny . . . _

.:o0o:.

**AN:** I don't have too much of chapter 1 done yet, but I will give you a small peek. Deal?

**Sneak Peek:** _My fingers grazed over the much beaten, flimsy paper as my eyes skimmed the blank image that appeared on the other side of the window. The smooth surface kissed my fingertips as lightly as the ebony and ivory keys I had long forgotten, the stained trails of crystalline tears embedded in my skin, stinging my face._

_It was day number three hundred and sixty-two. Almost a year had passed._

_She's still gone._

P.S: Okay, I know you're not going to like it, but hey. I'm not one of those people who just write their (well, fine, they're not actually mine) characters to get together in the first couple of chapters. It's the point. The journey of falling in love is a hard one and it doesn't just happen like that. So. Yeah.

And also, this will be in Edward's POV. I doubt there will be any in Bella's.

See yuh,

Laura


	2. Chapter 1: Intuition

AN:

**AN: **To the reviews I didn't respond to, THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT. On with the story!

**Summary: **AU. All human? Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 1 – Intuition**

**Edward**

Cape Disappointment, Washington

My fingers grazed over the much beaten, flimsy paper as my eyes skimmed the blank image that appeared on the other side of the window. The smooth surface kissed my fingertips as lightly as the ebony and ivory keys I had long forgotten, the stained trails of crystalline tears embedded in my skin, stinging my face.

It was day number three hundred and sixty-two. Almost a year had passed.

She's still gone.

A whole year gone – wasted – so slowly and yet so rapidly as I remembered the day she left. Moving of its own accord, my right hand reached into my back pocket, tracing over the edges of the folded paper there, the partner to the picture in my hand. The only two pieces of evidence I have left; the picture and her note, the last bit of her love remaining.

Though my eyes turned their gaze to the handwriting and words I knew by heart, I didn't actually see it. The only words I read were the ones that mattered most: _I love you._

I tore my sight away and looked back at the foggy landscape. Beyond the road, the whiteness cut off the rest of the world, lost to its depths. How I wished I would just walk into the mist and disappear. To find her. But that was impossible. She was gone.

One year vanished. Two funerals and a wedding already taken place. One other disappearance. Two new lives brought into the world as my life faded away. One more birthday, one more Christmas, one more year.

The smooth and shiny, one-sided paper was under my fingers again. And this time, I really looked at it.

Our last night together, taken by a hidden Alice, seconds after the kiss that changed my life. We were both smiling, our lips still pressed together as we continued to waltz. The last time, the last smile. And she was so beautiful. I flipped it over, reading the one word Alice had scribbled on the back, "Finally."

"Meow."

I scratched the cat's head, very aware of the fact that he had been a gift to me from an angel. Moose had been acting exceedingly strange lately, but I only subconsciously knew that. My awakened state was everything beyond dead.

His odd behavior had all started when Andrew died. It had been a closed-casket funeral; he had been in a car crash and the body had been badly damaged. That was the day that Mia, Jazz and Alice's daughter, had been born. We never found out who was in the other car, or what happened to the car, for that matter. All we knew was that Andrew was . . . gone.

Rose and Emmett were married now, my memory of the wedding just a dull blur, with a kid of their own. Everyone called the kid Russel, even though his real name was Wesley. I think the nickname had something to do with his attachment to Emmett's dog, Nellie, who had died about a week ago. I had vaguely remembered my angel's love for the mutt, though she barely ever saw her, when I heard this.

"Meow."

Looking down at my feline-mini-me, I stuffed the note and picture into my back pocket and it suddenly felt as if they each weighed five hundred pounds. Rotating one hundred and eighty degrees, I turned my eyes to our empty apartment; the multi-colored furnishing that was now over a year old looked blatantly dull now, with _her_ gone. She was the light that brightened my world. But now she was gone and everything was dark, pitch-black.

_Like Elza_, I thought, reminiscing about Jake's sudden departure. He had left barely a week after _she_ did, giving no explanation. But the thing was, Elza always knew that he would come back. Because he did. Once.

I lifted Moose up into my arms; he seemed to want something. Snuggling into my arms, he nudged his nose against my shoulder and abruptly jumped down from my embrace. I sighed, knowing the routine, and followed him out of the room to the kitchen. He lithely sprang onto the island, craning his head back to make sure I was watching. My lips frowned slightly as he started pawing the large red apple in the fruit bowl. Maybe I should take him to the vet.

"What is it, boy?" I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper due to the lack of its use. "What's wrong?"

Purring, the cat nudged its little head against the apple, causing the crimson fruit to fall out of the wooden bowl and roll across the counter. Quickly, with the reflexes I had acquired from a certain clumsy someone, I caught it before it hit the ground. My eyebrow rose partially at the smirking cat, his red-brown tail swishing back and forth.

"An apple?" I questioned fruitlessly – no pun intended. Moose hissed, and jumped down, landing softly on his paws. Weaving through my legs to make sure I was aware of what he was doing, he bounded off back into the living room. I set the apple down and trailed after him.

I found him standing on the couch, his front two paws on the kelly green side table where Alice had left brochures for vacation a few weeks ago. The purring cat blinked at me, as if signaling me to come over. Reaching him, Moose stroked the brochures, purring louder. Perplexed, I gazed down at the folded papers.

"New York?" I whispered, my eyebrows scrunching together. I hadn't been listening to my sister as she rambled on and on about the family vacation this year. The cat meowed again, as I hesitantly picked up one of the brochures. 'New York City: The Big Apple Of America' one of the headlines screamed.

"The big apple . . ." I trailed off, glancing incredulously at my house-warming gift. Petting his head, I spoke softly, more to myself rather than the cat, "What's in New York?"

Again the cat leaped out from under my grip, darting into the bedroom. Brochure still in hand, I walked in after him, my breath catching as Moose came into sight again. There, sitting contentedly on the pillow that I never used – because it wasn't mine – was where he was perched, purring once again. The pillow I never used, the side I never slept on.

"_Her_ . . ."

"Meow."

_There you go again,_ the stupid voice in the back of my head lectured, _listening to a cat._

"_She's_ . . . in New York?" I whispered inaudibly, staring wide-eyed at the mass of bronze fur.

"Meow."

My crazy, deluded mind took that as a yes.

.:o0o:.

_This is stupid,_ my head told me for the umpteenth time. Okay, so maybe it was stupid, but what else could I do? _Ugh._

My fingers twitched as I scrolled down the web page, my eyes glued to the screen. _Cat's Sixth Sense, Feline's Can Sense Death? Cat Predictability, Strange Cat Behavior; _the headlines of different sites flew by, so fast that I could barely read each of them. I shook my head, trying to clear the crazy idea out of my mind. A cat couldn't know that. Could they?

I sighed, stretching my limbs out as far as they could go as my eyes roamed around, eventually falling on my dust-gathering keyboard. My lids drooped, popping back up again instantly. Though my hands itched to be caressing the black and white keys once again, I knew it would do no good. It was enough for every time I gave a lesson that my chest panged with the utmost misery, eating away at my heart.

Moose jumped up on my lap once more, staring at me with one of those Don't-You-Give-Up-Just-Shut-It-And-Listen-To-Me looks. I couldn't help but have my doubts, though. How in the world would a cat know where she is?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I stood up from the computer, leaving any impossible hope behind in the rolling chair. Aimlessly, I meandered out of the apartment, finding myself looking out across the grounds on top of the balcony moments later.

"Mister Edward?"

The velvety soft voice of a young girl rang out across the mist, fading into the fog. The girl was abruptly beside me, her tiny, delicate hands gripping the railing, looking up at me with wide eyes through long lashes. With a vague remembrance, I put the name Aurora to her face. Daughter of the woman in 2A. I smiled at the six-year-old, though her coffee-colored eyes and curls pained my heart.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Where did your pretty lady friend go?" She blinked, her eyes glowing with curiosity. I sighed, closing my eyes, recollecting last year, with a few drops of saltwater forming under my lids.

"She had to leave," I whispered, trying to stay strong, opening my eyes to the little girl.

"Why?" Her instinctive inquiring nature took over the glint in her eyes.

"I don't know," I answered, my voice breaking twice.

Aurora's thin arms wrapped around my legs, clutching them as tight as she possibly could. My lips twitched upwards as I draped my own arms around her petite frame. It seemed odd to me that the young girl actually comforted me, as if her hug was holding me together.

"Don't worry, Mister Edward," Aurora sighed, "You'll find her. I know you will."

"Aurora?" a voice I knew as the girl's mother's – Charlotte – called out from behind us. Simultaneously, we both turned at the sound without breaking the embrace. I smiled slightly at the woman, whose lips grinned in return. "Time to go, dear," she said to her daughter softly.

Aurora unwrapped her arms from around my legs, beaming up at me with a spark of faith gracing her features. She skipped off to her mother, grasping her hand. Turning back to me for a second before they departed, Aurora called quietly, "Don't give up on her, sir."

And then hope was ignited within me.

Frozen where I was, the weather seemed to contradict my new mood. Through the haze, an angry thunderstorm broke through the clouds, drenching me with refreshing rain. The cool drops seemed to cleanse my body and my thoughts, the hope I had never knew existed becoming purer than any other emotion. My face rose towards the sky, the rain washing the ever-present tears from my skin.

Moping around wasn't doing me any good, giving me no progress. She still existed somewhere in the world. And I had promised myself before that no matter what my Little Miss Pipedream said, I would always chase after her. _Always._

She couldn't be completely gone.

As if I was dying, the only parts of my life that mattered were flashing behind my closed eyes, showing me forgotten pictures of my best friend. Of the love of my life. Of . . . Bella.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my feet from the wood they were planted on and briskly walked down the stairs to the top landing of the Cottage. I threw my door open, the emotions running wild through my veins motivating me.

"Calm down, son," a smooth voice halted me dead in my tracks. After a few moments, I regained the ability to move my body, and I turned around to face the source of the voice, my eyes widening at the sight.

A man roughly the age of twenty-two sat in the purple egg chair, a content purring Moose situated on his lap. Though the man was younger than I was, it seemed as if he was years older, and the air surrounding him gave him a wise impression. His skin was deathly pale, and alabaster white, contrasting against his blackened eyes. And despite my revived mood, the resemblance to my former next-door neighbor was uncanny, what with his curly brown hair.

"Hello, there, Edward," he said in a kind tone, "I've heard so much about you."

I blinked, utterly stunned. "W-who are you?" I asked uncertainly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied, stroking Moose's fur, "How rude of me. I'm Charlie. Charlie Swan . . . Bella's father."

.:o0o:.

**AN:** If anyone has any questions, put them in a review and I'll answer them next chapter, though you'll probably have more after next chapter anyways. And don't worry. Bella _will_ be in this story.

**Sneak Peek:** _"Okay, okay, I get it!" I shouted for the umpteenth time, throwing my hands up in the air. "What do you want me to do? Run away screaming?"_

_"Basically," Jacob replied, patting me on the back. "That's what a normal person would do, you see."_

_"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes._

Laura


	3. Chapter 2: An Unlikely Trio

AN:

**AN:** Soooooo, let's see. Um, how 'bout you read the chapter first and then I'll answer questions. Oh, and P.S., if you haven't read Little Miss Pipedream, I suggest you do so. Like, right now!

_**Mini-Recap:**_ _"Hello, there, Edward," he said in a kind tone, "I've heard so much about you."_

_I blinked, utterly stunned. "W-who are you?" I asked uncertainly._

_"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied, stroking Moose's fur, "How rude of me. I'm Charlie. Charlie Swan . . . Bella's father."_

**Summary: **AU. All human? Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 2 – An Unlikely Trio**

**Edward**

Disbelief made my jaw drop farther than it ever has before. Although everything shouted at me that Charlie was lying – like the fact that he was younger than both me and the girl he claimed to be his daughter – something about him made me trust the man. He spoke with such confidence and honesty that it was actually very hard to doubt him.

"Look, I know that this obviously comes as a shock to you," said Charlie soothingly, "But we really don't have much time to loose. I promise I'll explain everything to you on the plane."

"P-plane?" I stuttered, perplexed.

"Yes, we're catching a flight to New York in three hours," he answered, his dark eyes darting back and forth between mine.

"New York?" I asked incredulously, blinking rapidly as if it would prove that Charlie was a hallucination.

"We're going to find Bella," he replied simply.

The feline on his lap shot me a smug smile, his smirking beady eyes exclaiming, 'I told you so.'

.:o0o:.

"Alice," I said into the phone squished between my shoulder and ear, trying to pacify my sister as I followed Charlie through the terminal, dragging a suitcase in one hand and holding a caged Moose in the other.

"Don't you Alice me, Mister," she growled. "You are not leaving."

"Look, I'm sorry, but I have to," I replied, scrunching my eyebrows together in frustration. "Staying will only hurt me more. It's hard enough as it is, living in the same apartment that she used to live in with me."

"Edward, please," she begged as we checked in for Flight 23, the female attendant eying both of us up. "I can't lose you, too."

"I know you loved her, too, Alice," I replied, "But this is what's best for me. Besides, when you guys come to New York on vacation, you can visit me in the city." I cringed slightly, knowing that I was partially lying to her.

"Edward . . ." my pixie sister whined, running out of excuses. "What about the apartment?"

"I already talked to the landlord about it," I answered, "I'll still make the payments every month, it's not that expensive. And I left the key with Elza if any of you guys want to use it."

"But, but –"

"I'm sorry, Al," I cut her off, "I can't stay. I love you. Tell everyone else that, too. Especially Mom and Dad. I'll see you guys soon, I promise."

"Fine," she gave in, "I love you, too. Be careful, Edward."

"I will."

Collapsing in one of the chairs next to Charlie in the waiting area, I dropped my luggage and Moose beside me, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Charlie put a comforting, albeit stone hard and immensely freezing, hand on my arm, obviously trying to reassure me. I was still dizzy from his insanely fast driving, speeding ten times quicker than I ever had, even in Alice's Porsche.

"Charlie," I said quietly, keeping my eyes shut and then opening them to look at him. "New York's a huge city. How are we ever going to find her?"

"Later," he murmured, reclaiming his hand and looking out the large glass window at the pouring rain. I sighed, trying to contemplate the fact that just this morning I was drowning in an unending depression. And now. Well, now I was hopping on a plane to New York, all the way across the country to find the girl that fled from my life almost a year ago. Not to mention that the only reason that I believed she was in New York was the word of a cat and a man that shouldn't really exist.

_What have you gotten yourself into now, Edward?_

.:o0o:.

New York City, New York

Charlie wasn't much of a smiling guy, I soon figured out. He was very solemn, but that almost made him more attractive. Though, when he did smile – which he did only once, when I could tell he was thinking of his daughter – his eyes crinkled, making him seem inhumanly beautiful.

As our plane landed in the JFK airport, I started to think of this as more of an adventure, compliments of the little boy inside of me. Half of me wanted to admit that I was just running away from my problems, but the other part – the one that truly trusted Charlie – told me that this wild-goose chase across the country was taking me closer and closer to her by the second. The very thought made me giddy, more lively than I ever had been since the day she left.

An hour later, after retrieving my luggage – Charlie didn't have any – and Moose, then going through security, Charlie told me he'd be back in a minute, literally returning not half a minute later, fully clad in clothes that covered about every inch of his skin, though it was still summer and blazing hot outside. He avoided my quizzical glance and hurriedly led the way outside into the bright sunshine. Standing precariously in the shade of the building, he looked around, trying to spot something. Not a second later did a taxi park in front of us as Charlie threw my suitcase into the trunk. I blinked and suddenly found myself inside of the cab, staring at familiar warm black eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Jacob?" I asked as he expertly spun the taxi out of the parking lot, turning onto the highway in mere moments.

"Where are we going, Charlie?" Jake requested, ignoring me completely.

"My place," he replied, letting Moose out of his cage.

"Would you _please_ explain to me what's going on?" I inquired angrily.

"You haven't told him yet?" Jake exclaimed incredulously.

"I can't, you know that," Charlie replied idly, gazing out the window as he absentmindedly petted the purring cat on his lap.

"But –"

"You want me to?" Jake cut me off. Charlie and Jacob exchanged a fleeting glance, and I took that as a confirmation. "Fine," Jake sighed, then said, looking at me, "Edward, did Bella ever tell you why she and I broke up?"

I nodded, unable to do anything else. Jacob kept looking at me – though he was still driving at top speed down a busy highway – as if waiting for something, so when I found my voice, I continued. "She said that you kind of disappeared and then she dumped you after a fight you guys had."

"Did she tell you what we fought about?"

"Um," I stalled, trying to remember. Then, after a long pause, I said, "Something about you believing in superstitious stuff your dad used to tell you . . ." He nodded, gesturing for me to keep going. "About mythical creatures, I think she said, like vampires and werewolves or something . . ." I trailed off, my eyes furrowing in confusion, as I wondered where this was going.

"Correct," Jake said, rounding a sharp corner as we entered the heart of the Big Apple. "So what would you say if I told you that you were currently in a New York taxicab with one of each?"

"I . . ." my voice wavered as I looked back and forth between Charlie and the driver. Something in me realized that he was telling the truth, wanting me to accept what Jacob said. Nevertheless, I resisted the impulse. "I'd say that you need to check into your room at the state hospital."

Jake laughed. "You really are Bella's other half; she said the exact same thing. Of course, it was only me then, she still has no idea about her father," he concluded gloomily.

"Turn around," Charlie said harshly, finally speaking up. "He needs proof."

.:o0o:.

I stood in the middle of the sunny forest clearing, faultlessly still, save for my breathing. Jake was slouching casually beside me, his eyes following the invisible blur that I was trying to see. Apparently, or according to Jake, Charlie was running around us in a circle, the only proof I could have of that was the breeze that surrounded us, though it did not reach the trees. Even though I kept repeating that I understood, Charlie had proceeded in knocking down a few trees, throwing them, and running to catch them before the log hit the ground a hundred yards away. I knew he wasn't human, especially from the way his white skin reverberated the sun into a billion tiny rainbows.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" I shouted for the umpteenth time, throwing my hands up in the air. "What do you want me to do? Run away screaming?"

"Basically," Jacob replied, patting me on the back. "That's what a normal person would do, you see."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Phase," Charlie commanded from beside me, making me jump slightly at his sudden appearance. I wrinkled my brows, baffled at his order, until I realized that he was talking to Jake, who had waltzed about twenty feet away, facing us with a smug grin on his lips as he stripped off his clothes.

If I had blinked, I would have missed the transformation of man to wolf. My eyes widened as I stared at the russet wolf now in front of me, its black eyes still smug. Charlie stood unfazed and still luminous beside me. It was difficult to believe that I ever thought either of these 'men' were really human. With the evidence presented in front of my eyes, it was painfully obvious what they were.

"Wait," I said as Jake phased back, redressing. "Does Elza know?"

"Um," Jake started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, see . . . I, er, . . . well, I imprinted on her."

"You what?" I asked, as we both followed Charlie back to the cab.

"Imprinted," he repeated, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's a wolf thing. Kind of like love at first sight, only stronger."

"Oh," I retorted as Charlie rapidly turned to face us.

"Jake, I'm going for a hunt," he said, "I'll be back before dusk." And without further ado, he raced past us, completely disappearing.

"Hunt?" I inquired, tilting my head sideways at Jacob.

"Don't worry," he said, shrugging it off as we climbed into the taxi. "He only drinks the blood of animals. Like a vegetarian, you know?"

"Ah," was my only reply as we sped off again, inching closer and closer to her by the second.

.:o0o:.

"Best two out of three," I drawled dully as Jacob and I sat in Charlie's penthouse, located right in Time's Square. After clumsily shuffling the deck of cards – which were emblazoned with the Arkansas Razorbacks mascot – he dealt them out for the thousandth time this afternoon. Losing the same game over and over again made me realize that rummy just wasn't my card game. Since the outing to the clearing, Jake had been answering random questions about mythical creatures that spewed out of my mouth. And with nothing much left to do but wait for Charlie to arrive, we had turned to card games when I had found a beaten up deck of cards underneath a couch cushion. "Jake," I muttered, another question popping up in my head that Charlie hadn't answered before. "Why did she leave?"

He glanced up at me briefly as he placed a queen of hearts in the discard pile. "I don't know," he replied in a tone that made me believe he was lying.

I scrunched my eyebrows together as I picked up the queen. "How are we going to find her? There's billions of people out there," I asked.

"Charlie and I are going to sniff her out," he responded casually.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "And I assume that there's nothing _I_ can do to help?"

"Not really," Jake said, placing a run of spades on the table in front of him. He looked up at me, smiling slightly. "Except maybe staying out of the way."

Exhaling loudly, I grunted, drawing a card to add to my hand. Just as I set my three queens down, Charlie silently barged though the front door, his eyes a pure golden now.

"Go to sleep," Charlie told us peacefully, "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Throwing our cards on the table without bothering to clean up, Jake and I sauntered over to the plush couches. "Is he always this grave?" I asked in an undertone, though I knew Charlie's super-senses could pick it up anyway.

"Nah," Jacob replied in the same quiet voice, plopping down on a couch that was considerably short for his lanky build. "He just misses his family."

And, sinking into a blue cushioned couch, I fell asleep next to the werewolf with the vampire watching over us.

.:o0o:.

**AN: **PLEASE READ! Mmkay. So obviously this story is going to be a little different than Little Miss Pipedream. LMP was more of Edward and Bella's beginning relationship, building up to this (I had this story in mind before I even started LMP). This one is more . . . to use your words, mysterious. But like I said before, it's all a part of the journey.

Anyways, as you've seen, YES, Charlie is a vampire. Bella told Edward that he left when he found out that Renee was pregnant with Elza, but he left because that's when he was changed into a vampire. The first about ten years of his existence was spent coping with his thirst, during which he found that animal blood could suffice instead of human's. Then he started keeping tabs on his family, making sure they were okay and everything. When Bella met Jake in college, Charlie happened to be following her when they got together, causing Jake to transform into a werewolf. Then when Renee married Phil, Charlie only checked on his daughters now and then, so he knows all about Edward, etc, etc. Charlie doesn't really have a power, more of just an intense caring for his family, I guess.

So, now, about Moose. When Bella left, Charlie didn't really notice because he was abroad, but when he came back to find a pretty much dead Edward, he went looking for her. Every now and then, Jacob helped, but it hurt him to be away from Elza for so long. Charlie recently found hints of her traveling to New York, so he thought he'd drag Edward into it, to help stop his suffering and maybe help with the search. Moose is a special cat. He's attracted to Charlie for some odd reason and kind of testy with Jake. Charlie had used Moose as a kind of source for getting the information to Edward, though it didn't really go according to plan. And well, you saw what happened.

On a side note, Aurora used to love Bella. She only knew her as 'Mister Edward's pretty lady friend' so that's why she asked him. She could tell how much Edward loved her. To kids, it's sometimes more obvious than it is to anyone else.

Also, if it wasn't clear last chapter, the two funerals Edward was talking about were Andrew and Nellie (Emmett's dog). The wedding was obviously Rose and Emmett's and Jake was the disappearance. Two new lives: that was Russel (Rose and Emmett's son) and Mia (Jasper and Alice's daughter). Jazz and Alice are also engaged.

Sooooo, sorry for the super-extra-mega-ultra long AN. Also sorry that I don't have a sneak peek for you guys. Oops.

Thanks again to everyone!

Laura


	4. Chapter 3: Yellow Hair

AN:

**AN:** Kay, guys. Sorry for not updating sooner. I had a bucket-load of problems and other things that kept me from the computer. Not to mention some writer's block. Here's the chaptah!

**Mini-Recap:**_ Throwing our cards on the table without bothering to clean up, Jake and I sauntered over to the plush couches. "Is he always this grave?" I asked in an undertone, though I knew Charlie's super-senses could pick it up anyway._

_"Nah," Jacob replied in the same quiet voice, plopping down on a couch that was considerably short for his lanky build. "He just misses his family."_

_And, sinking into a blue cushioned couch, I fell asleep next to the werewolf with the vampire watching over us._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 3 – Yellow Hair**

**Edward**

Raising the mug to my lips, the black coffee trickled down my throat as my eyes fluttered shut, inhaling the sweet smell of coffee grinds in the air. I set the cup back down on the ring-stained napkin, rubbing my thumb over the smooth ceramic surface of the handle. My eyelids opened and I was met with the sight of the miniscule café. It was a lucky find; a nice sociable staff, I found as the middle-aged waitress had sat down with me discussing the pros and cons of plastic cups to styrofoam ones; wonderful coffee, with a wide selection and freshly ground beans; and a quiet atmosphere, soothing music in the background and only a handful of customers here and there.

Jacob and Charlie, true to their word, set out just after dawn every morning, waking me only to say that they'd be back by nightfall. So instead of staying in the empty penthouse by myself like I had for the past week or so, I had ventured out into the streets, trying to find a comfortable place to read the paper. Never having been to New York before, I discovered that I fit in almost perfectly with the fast-paced city. It really was the place to be. The only thing about it that bothered me was its size. The vampire-werewolf search party duo had been exploring high and low for the past ten days, and they had yet to pick up her scent. But none of us lost hope.

The coffee shop and bakery, Luna's Café I think it was called, was in a quiet neighborhood, or as quiet as New York could ever be. It was only a few steps off the beaten path, but it was worth it. I couldn't think of a better place to spend my Monday morning.

Stuck on the monster Sudoku – the newspaper puzzle I had taken a liking to, almost forming an addiction – I took a bite of the cream-filled doughnut, relishing the way the cream squeezed into my mouth, its sweetness a small slice of heaven. Chewing the homemade dough, I flicked the ballpoint pen in between my two fingers, my eyebrows scrunching as I tried in vain to figure out the enormous puzzle that seemed almost impossible. Washing the bite down with another gulp of coffee, I wrote a neat nine in the middle of the corner box.

Given the time I now had, I mulled my whole situation over thoroughly. To me, it really seemed as if everything was an extensive dream and I was just waiting to wake up to find her in my arms again, telling me that it was my turn to make breakfast. But, alas, it was not a dream – nor a nightmare – she was really gone, and I was here in New York City, rooming with two characters out of a storybook. Though I was not completely out of my depressed funk, I thought I had been doing a lot better, seeing as I was trying to put in an effort of finding the girl of my dreams, instead of moping around in my – _our_ – apartment all day long.

Money wasn't much of a problem. I had asked Charlie whether I should take another job, after I had quit the one back in Cape Disappointment. But he had turned down the idea, telling me that he had enough money in the world. I guess accumulated cash was just some perk of living forever. It still didn't feel right to me, though, using his money. But he insisted.

I often wondered what the family was doing back at home and how everyone was taking my sudden departure. I sometimes had sudden impulses to call them, but ignored it, knowing that I would be guilt-tripped into anything that anyone said. I still felt guilty when I didn't answer Mom's phone call the other day.

"Need a refill, dear?" I looked up, drawn out of my small bubble, at the red-haired waitress who thought styrofoam was not meant to be drunk out of. Nodding, she poured me another steaming cup of hot brown liquid, the steam swirling into the air, spouting from the mug. She set the pot down on the glass-topped table and sat down across from me, folding her hands under her chin. "You look like you could use a nice bit of company," she said, smiling.

"Of course," I replied, not wanting to be rude, and held out my hand, saying, "Edward Cullen, ma'am."

She grasped my hand in hers, shaking it gently. "Call me Maggie, dear."

My lips twitched upward as I raised the mug again to my lips, taking a long, soothing sip. The woman reminded me of my mother with her habit of British vocabulary.

"Something wrong, hun?" Maggie asked, cocking her head to the side as her eyebrows pulled together, her red lips frowning.

"I . . ." I started, trailing off, not knowing what to say. "Don't know," I finished lamely.

"Is it a woman?" the waitress inquired, a knowing spark in her eyes. I chuckled quietly. _Just like in the movies,_ I thought. "I'm correct, am I not?" she continued, smirking.

"I guess you could say that," I replied, ripping off a small piece of the doughnut and popping it in my mouth.

Maggie sighed. "What happened?"

I wrinkled my nose. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," she sighed, "I've been needing to hear a good story."

I frowned. "It's not much of a happy story."

"Well, we'll just have to change that, now won't we?"

Glancing up at the woman, the red-haired waitress who seemed to chat with her customers often, I grinned softly as I stole another few drops of coffee. Twisting the mug around in my fingers as I put it back on the table, I took a deep breath. Maggie refilled my mug yet again as I launched the story. "It all began when I moved in next-door to the clumsiest girl on Planet Earth . . ."

.:o0o:.

People-watching was on the agenda for today. I had always been interested in observing different people, reading their facial expressions and trying to get inside their head. With a few years of practice, I was quite good with guessing their thoughts. But before I headed out, I stopped in Luna's Café for a quick cup.

Maggie was working again today, tending two other customers when I walked in. One was an old man with white hair and balding. He was sloppily sipping his mocha and gibbering on and on to a nodding Maggie, who I was sure was hanging on to his every word, as she did with me.

The other customer was a mother with her child, who looked not more than four months old. The woman was pale with long blonde hair falling in ringlets to her waist, twirling around as she cooed to her brunette baby. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, and though she had a baby, I could see no ring glinting on her left hand. Her cream cheese bagel lay abandoned on the table beside her, accompanied by an almost overflowing caramel-drizzled frappiccino as she lifted her son into her arms, holding on to him as if he was her only lifeline. Just like I had. Only my grip had slipped for but a moment and my lifeline was gone.

"What would you like today, deary?" Maggie asked me, a ready tablet poised in her hands.

"The usual, please," I replied, finally tearing my eyes away from the blond and her baby.

The waitress winked at me. "I'll be waiting to hear the rest of that story, Mister."

I picked up the daily newspaper that I had collected from Charlie's mailbox on the way out of the apartment, and submerged myself behind it, my eyes not seeing the words, the pictures. Maggie came back with my black coffee and set it down with a doughnut, and I reached towards it, ripping a bite off with my teeth as I stole a glance at the yellow-haired woman. She was kindly talking to the elder man the table across from her, the man whose remnants of mocha drooled down his chin. They were conversing animatedly, the green-eyed child beaming wide as he received attention from the balding man.

"Her name's Vanya, I think," Maggie mused, startling me when I realized that she had sat down with me. "Pretty name, isn't it? Calls the little one Tony Junior. So precious, he is."

"Yes," I murmured, turning back to my paper.

Maggie heaved a prodding cough. "So . . ." she trailed off, turning back to me as she fiddled with her fingers impatiently. "Gonna finish your story?"

I sighed. "Where were we?"

"Bella passed out and Renee helped you realize you were in love with your best friend. Left me hanging right at the climax," the waitress said in a patronizing tone, pretending to scold me with her eyes.

Sighing again, I laid down the paper and took another sip of the black steaming coffee, my eyes roaming the shop. "When she woke up, she eventually asked me if the reason I was being so distant was because of Renee's outburst, and I didn't respond. I mean, what was I supposed to say?" I asked, my eyes falling the pair of indigo eyes of Maggie and the even bluer burning eyes of Vanya.

"You were supposed to tell her that you loved her, damn it!" The redhead's hand slammed down on the table with her profound statement, causing me to jump. The repetitious words that I had heard a thousand times before fogged my brain, the regret again settling into my chest.

"We didn't talk after that for three days," I murmured, ignoring my fuming companion.

"Serves you right," she muttered darkly.

"Excuse me, Madame," the wrinkled man's voice called out through the morning, catching Maggie's attention. She gave me a pointed look, an I'll-Be-Coming-Back-So-Don't-You-Even-Think-About-Running-Away looks, and moseyed over to the man. Falling back into my chair, I scrunched my eyes closed, stretching my arms behind my back. My mind still hadn't wrapped itself around the fact that I wasn't in my apartment back in Cape Disappointment.

Opening my eyes, their gaze fell once again on the single parent family across the room. The child looked nothing like his mother, I noted as I briefly wondered about the father. I couldn't linger on the subject long, for the very thought of family drudged up panging memories about mine and the wish for one with my best friend. I shoved my nagging thoughts away, turning my head towards the window. Beyond the freshly cleaned glass was a busy street full to the brim of New Yorkers going about their daily business. How I wished that I could do the same and forget about all of this . . .

Standing up, I made up my mind to escape the café before Maggie could come back and prod the rest of my story out of me. I knew I was procrastinating the inevitable, because I knew I would come back tomorrow and the next day and the waitress would eventually get it out of me. Draining the remainder of my coffee in one gulp, I grabbed the once bitten doughnut and the abandoned newspaper. Taking one last swift glance – more to make sure that Maggie wouldn't drag me back in the door if she caught me rather than anything else – my eyes locked again with the cerulean eyes of the yellow-haired mother, Vanya. Her face held a shock of incredulity, her marble-like eyes wide. I blinked and turned away, walking out the door into the bright day of New York.

.:o0o:.

Hours later, the words still rang in my mind.

"_You should have told her."_

The monotonous day passed me by the same way it always did. I had sat for hours upon hours on the smooth ruby bench in Central Park, watching hundreds of people walk by, the occasional child talking to me before their mothers scolded them for talking to strangers. Now, walking back into Times Square, the millions of humans constantly in a rush pushed past me again and again.

It was amazing to me how many people could seem to look like her. I had mistaken close to nineteen people of being my former next-door neighbor. None of them were her. _Obviously_, my mind gloated.

I eventually found myself trekking up the many stairs to Charlie's penthouse, pulling the spare key out from under the welcome mat. _Very original_, I had snorted when Jake showed me the hiding place. Turing the knob, I meandered through the large apartment, stopping in the kitchen for a quick banana. Peeling the yellow fruit, I plopped down on a chair in the enormous parlor, swiveling around the face the TV.

I jumped out of surprise for the second time today when I found Jake standing directly in front of me, Charlie lounging in the background. They were home early – not a good sign.

"Wh-what's up?" I stuttered nervously.

Jake ran a hand through his growing hair, mimicking me when I was stressed. He took a fleeting glance at Charlie and then turned back to me. "We found a lead this afternoon –"

"You did?" I asked excitedly, sitting up in the chair.

"– and it led right out of the city," Jake finished. "We lost the scent when she got on a plane outside of Philadelphia."

My short-lived spirits plummeted down into the bottommost hole of my being as my eyes traveled to the grave-looking vampire and Jake's statement was confirmed. My gaze flickered back and forth between the two men, trying to find any miniscule detail that would contradict the gloom that was setting into my stomach, the banana falling from my fingers.

The smoke was almost in our grasp, yet it seeped through the cracks at the very last second.

She was gone. Again.

.:o0o:.

**AN:** So, thanks to all the reviewers and all the readers. I'm not sure when I'll update again, but I'll try to within the next week. Sorry and thanks again.

Love,

Laura


	5. Chapter 4: Expect The Unexpected

AN:

**AN:** Soooooooooo immensely sorry for not getting this out sooner! I've been loaded down with a bazillion projects for school. I know those are lame excuses, but still. I am sorry. Hope you still love the chapter!

**Mini Recap: **_My short-lived spirits plummeted down into the bottommost hole of my being as my eyes traveled to the grave-looking vampire and Jake's statement was confirmed. My glaze flickered back and forth between the two men, trying to find any miniscule detail that would contradict the gloom that was setting into my stomach, the banana falling from my grasp. _

_The smoke was almost in our grasp, yet it seeped through the cracks at the very last second._

_She was gone. Again._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 4 – Expect The Unexpected**

**Edward**

Rubbing my temples, my eyes opened to the sight of the calm-toned interior of the plane, the beiges and tans blurring my vision. I sat beside the half-shaded ovular window and though two people sat beside me, only one of my companions had a heartbeat or was breathing. Jacob intermittently patted my arm, as he did now. Shaking him off, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the billowing sea of pure whiteness passing below us. I sighed for what seemed like the quadrillionth time today.

Peru. She fled to Peru.

I had never been to South America, let alone out of the country. She was initiating my over-delayed tour of the world.

_Peru_, I speechlessly thought again. My rational mind hoped against hope that she didn't take a layover flight; it would take months to search the whole country. Manhattan was definitely _a lot_ smaller than Peru.

Thought I was no expert in the tracking field, I did occasionally wonder why we couldn't just trace her credit card or something. But when I voiced this train of thought aloud to Charlie, he said that her account had been cancelled and she had emptied her savings from the bank when she escaped Cape Disappointment a year ago.

And I still couldn't understand _why_ she was gone in the first place. That unanswerable question had plagued my mind for the past three hundred and seventy-three days and no possible explanation had evidently popped up yet. The only thing my head kept wandering back to was the enigmatic note she had received that night at the doctors' benefit.

But then why did she flee from New York? To go to Peru, of all places? Did she . . . I trailed off, furrowing my brows. Did she know we were looking for her? Did she know we were getting close to finding her? And did she run from us? Did she not want to see me again? Did she not really love me?

Scrunching my eyelids closed, I shoved that notion out of sight, hoping it would never return again. Relishing the darkness the back of my lids presented, I drifted to sleep, the nightmares once again coming back.

.:o0o:.

The strange thing about flying into Peru was that you could only land early in the morning or late at night. Why? Because of the vultures. The hideous birds would swarm the skies in the afternoon, so many that it seemed like they formed a large, moving black cloud. And obviously, it was too dangerous for a plane to fly through the gathering, because the chances of one of the bald birds getting sucked into the jets were something around ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent. So it was about five forty-three in the morning and we were just landing.

It was a long flight, what with the depression taking over me again and every single woman – and well, the married ones, too – on the plane somehow managing to flirt with wither Jacob or Charlie. I mean, I have to admit; mythical creatures are inhumanly beautiful, but then again, they _aren't_ human. After finally disembarking the aircraft, we grabbed our luggage, which was mostly my luggage, and dashed to one of the airport desks. Charlie immediately started to sweet talk the lady there to see if her could find out where his daughter went. I smirked; any female – and some males – wouldn't be able to resist his eloquence; I had witnessed it firsthand when he flirted our way onto the next plane here back in the United States.

Dawdling around while Charlie tried to weave his way into Information, I twitched involuntarily when my phone started ringing for the first time in a week. I glanced at the Caller ID: _Unknown Caller_. Sighing against my better judgment, I flicked open the cell, bringing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Edward?"

I frowned. "Renee?"

"Oh, Edward," my second mother gushed in relief, "We've all been so worried about you. Where are you?"

"I'm, er, in New York," I lied smoothly, grazing a hand through my constant mess of hair.

"Oh, sweetie," Renee sighed worriedly, "You're not . . . you're not looking for her, are you?"

"N-no," I stuttered, answering just a bit too quickly.

"C'mon, Edward, we have to go," Charlie said quietly from behind me, looking livid and anxious. He grabbed my elbow and, as fast as he could at human pace, pulled me toward a different terminal in the small airport.

"Who was that?" Renee asked, momentarily forgetting our previous conversation.

"Uh," I said in a panic as my feet dragged along the ground, Jake close in tow behind us. "A coworker of mine."

"Oh. It sounded a lot like . . ." she muttered, "Never mind." Charlie growled, knowing as well as I did what she was probably thinking.

"Sorry, Renee," I cut in, "I have to go."

She sighed across the line. "You be careful, Edward," she whispered, softly adding, "She'll always love you. As do the rest of us."

"'Kay," I murmured, choking up as that seed of doubt settled in my stomach again. "See you."

Jake caught up with us and suddenly grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around to face him. The rest of the luggage lay on the ground twenty feet away, Moose's cage beside the trunks with the feline's vibrant green eyes glowing out from the darkness. My eyes trailed back to the werewolf's face, his warm black eyes filled with concern and alertness.

"Jake?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Edward," he said, avoiding my gaze as he looked over my head at Charlie. "But we're leaving."

The corners of my lips turned downward slightly as my eyebrows pulled together. "Okay. Where are we going?" I inquired, tilting my head in confusion.

"No, Edward," he said forcefully, looking me in the eyes with an air of sorrow. "We, as in Charlie and I, are leaving."

"What do you mean?"

"Charlie couldn't get anything out of the woman at the desk, except that the only other flight that flew in last night was a layover to Italy. We're taking a plane to Volterra to see if she's there and you are staying here until we come back," Jacob explained.

"But –"

"You're staying," Charlie growled angrily, glaring at me from my side. "If Bella is in the heart of the Volturi city, it's easier for us if we only have one human to look after. And they won't take kindly to you knowing about us."

"No!" I interrupted loudly, making innocent bystanders give us a deserving odd look.

"Don't make us _make_ you stay," Jake said menacingly, narrowing his eyes at me. Blinking rapidly, I gulped as I stared back into the eyes of wolfish decent.

.:o0o:.

Two days on my own in Peru – along with Moose, of course – and already, I have probably seen half of the six hundred and twenty-three different types of fruit that I never even knew existed before and I've had roasted guinea pig for dinner. If I wasn't careful, what with all of that and my growing anxiety, I might just have my own room reserved in a mental ward. No offense to anyone or anything.

In the end, Jake _did_ have to make me stay; I wasn't giving up without a fight. Of course, setting security on me was a little harsh. But it did the job, nonetheless. It was one of those odd times that I did wish I could have the super-human strength of a vampire.

So, here I was, sitting in the hotel room in Lima. In the lush comforts of this room, it was almost hard to believe that this was actually a third world country. Moose sat on my lap, purring contentedly, though I had no idea what reason he had to be content about. I sighed and laid my head back on the cushioned recliner, closing my eyes. Although I tried my hardest not to think of anything at all, my mind was hard to empty and my constant thoughts were difficult to elude. Sleep was the blessed escape. If only I hadn't slept fourteen hours already.

Maybe I was beyond delusional.

_I was running. Running, sprinting through the dense green forest, though no amount of speed would help me escape the fear that sickened my every pore. Running could do no help. And I couldn't outrun the advancing enemy._

_I was too late._

_The memories of yesteryear replayed in my mind's eye, panging my heart with the all-consuming fear and anguish. I couldn't reach her in time. And her death would equal mine._

_My heart seemed to gather that fact into account, beating out erratic tunes that could match a hummingbird's. No time. My heavy breathing caught in my chest, the pain in my breast growing with each passing second. No time._

_Time and tide does not wait for anyone. The same goes for Death._

_Grim and dank, the sun ultimately set beyond the gray horizon, never to be seen by the eyes of us again. She was gone: so was I. Simple fact._

_The glow of red seemed to surround me as the woody scent filled my nostrils, the decrepit sounds of a kill suddenly approaching my eardrums. I needed her. Her visage in my eyesight, her freesia scent invading my nose, her timeless laughter ringing in my ears, the soft touch of her smooth skin against the rough of mine . . ._

I jerked awake again, shivering from the aftermath of my dream. I knew drugging myself wasn't a good idea; sleeping pills rarely worked for me anyways.

Standing up – and throwing Moose off my lap in the process – I ran a hand through my in-need-of-cleaning hair, pacing back and forth across the rugged carpet for the thousandth time and counting. They were all in the midst of the royal vampires, hell-bent on blood and power, and I was stuck here. Doing nothing. In. A. Hotel. In. The. Middle. Of. Peru. That had over six hundred different kinds of fruit!

_Deep breaths, Edward._

I closed my eyes again and obeyed the voice inside my head.

After the fleeting calming exercise, I stalked to the window, throwing the curtains open in my angst. I saw nothing below me, gazing out across the land, into the dismal gray skies. Even when I'm away from home, everything tends to reflect my mood. My hands gripped the sill, as if enough force could mold the wood to the shape of my hand.

_Deep breaths._

Leaning my head against the cool glass of the window, I complied again. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. I crinkled my nose; it wasn't working. Banging my fists against the pane, tears welled in my eyes as I thought again about the love of my life with piercing red eyes, draped with a black cloak.

_Why couldn't I help, damn it!_

Pushing myself away from the gloomy blankness, I paced again the length of the room and back again. And back again. I bit my lip, crossing my arms over my chest as I planned things out.

How long would I have to wait until I could fly out of the country again? Five o'clock. That meant at least five hours. _Damn._ I couldn't wait that long.

_Well, you're going to have to._

"Shut up," I muttered darkly, my hands pulling my already-yanked-out hair farther.

"Meow."

"I said shut up!" I yelled lividly, throwing my arms up into the air as I turned to face the cat.

Two smirks met my shocked gaze. Two pairs of half-amused eyes looked up at me.

"Angst-y much, Edward?" she sneered, her eyes narrowing as she stroke the once-again purring feline.

.:o0o:.

**AN: **Ahh, an angst-y Eddie is always fun to mess with. Anyways, the facts about Peru are true. Except, I think the vulture thing is only in a certain part of Peru, but for the sake of the story, it's for whatever part of the country Edward's in. I just know all these things because my mom went there for a month last year. It was pretty cool; she brought home a lot of neat things. I still have the dart shooter. Oh, and I'll be updating _Le Sort De Neige_ as soon as possible. Promise.

Thanks to everyone!

Laura


	6. Chapter 5: Miss Take

AN:

**AN: **Okay, so this is way late. I have too many excuses and none of them would be good enough for you guys. Sorry.

Anyways, this chapter is in honor of a few things. First, it's for the character Andrew was based off of (his name being Andrew, of course, but I call him Vindee, short for Vin Diesel) and whose birthday was when I wanted to update this, October 4th. Second, it's for my friend MARISSA, a fellow Twi-Hard, who actually finished Little Miss Pipedream, read this story and Le Sort De Neige. I'm so proud of her. Unlike _some_ people. Coughcorinacough. And lastly, for the new Twilight trailer that came out (YAY!). I loved it.

So, I'm really glad I got this out before my birthday, which is tomorrow. And now, since a puny little pillow won't hide me from the wrath of sekhmetkitty002 (whose Twilight fanfic is really good, by the way. I suggest you go read it!), I give you . . . Chapter Five.

**Mini Recap:**_ "Shut up," I muttered darkly, my hands pulling my already-yanked-out hair farther._

_"Meow."_

_"I said shut up!" I yelled lividly, throwing my arms up into the air as I turned to face the cat._

_Two smirks met my shocked gaze. Two pairs of half-amused eyes looked up at me._

_"Angst-y much, Edward?" she sneered, her eyes narrowing as she stroke the once-again purring feline._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 5 – Miss Take**

**Edward**

My thoughts whirred in a tornado about my head, whispering forbidden notions in my ears.

Was I to blame for her disappearance? Is that what it all came down to? Was I damned to spend the entirety of my life roaming the globe chasing after a woman whom may not love me anymore? Was it my fault?

My life on hiatus, but for how long? If the rest of my life was cursed to forever play this game, I might as well be changed into a vampire, to live on into oblivion. I had no life now anyways; it was impossible for me to live.

I was alive in the general definition of the term; I existed, I was not dead. Breathing, eating, walking, talking, performing all the functions of a living body. But I was not actually living. Void of all emotions, my lifeless form had only the goal to find my life again; to find _her_.

The gloom of a black abyss hovered around my eyes, showing me nothing but darkness. By general definition, I _was_ dead; deprived of life, inanimate. I was just wasting much needed oxygen.

I was drowning in my own self-loathing.

My family seemed too far away, the love they had for me out of my range of sight. Just as my love for her was. My beating heart was dissipating energy as it hammered in my throat. The existence of her wasn't enough anymore; my dying motivation to find her was running out. The longing to have her clumsy form in my arms was weakening.

Who was I?

Charlie and Jacob weren't human, but they were still living. _I, _on the other hand, was the one that was inhuman. This newfound feeling gave me a sudden glimpse into Charlie's life. I shuddered to think of this in an unending life, stretching on into eternity. I had numbered breaths, and they were going to run out one day.

How soon?

_Who was I?_

. . .

It _was_ my fault.

My jarring breaths pulled me back to the present.

"Argh," I yelled, pivoting on my heel to return to pacing yet again. "Stop hallucinating, Edward," I murmured quietly.

"You're not hallucinating," she said softly, advancing behind me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I banged my head against the panes, the cooling agony calming my dizzying head. She wasn't there. Not there . . .

A small, warming hand rested on my shoulder, massaging the tense muscles there. "I'm really here," she whispered.

"Bella . . ." I moaned.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know where she is."

"Elza," I sighed against the fogged glass. "I don't know how to live without her."

"I know," my almost-sister said, rubbing my back.

The thick air of awkwardness was broken by my heavy exhales, followed by the inevitable question. "What are you doing here?" my rough voice asked bluntly, my unseeing eyes staring out into the capital city.

"Andrew's will was found last Saturday," Elza whispered in a saddened tone.

"And?" I asked, not meaning to be so brusque, as I pinched the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb.

"He left you a few things," Elza huffed, walking away from me. "And I thought you might like to have what he left Bella."

Gradually opening my eyes, I swiveled around to face the fuming girl. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a large paper grocery bag, which had blatantly been unceremoniously dropped in Elza's rush to greet Moose. Avoiding my watching gaze, she went to the bag, the bronze-haired feline trekking after her, as she bent downwards to reach into its depths.

Out of the brown bag, she conjured a pile of mismatched books in one hand, a jingling box of what I could only assume as miscellaneous objects in the other. My gaze lingered on the collection of hatch-keys in Elza's arms, picking out a photo album, shiny CD cases, some novels, and a thin black book. Unnoticed seconds passed me by as my focus never wavered from its staring and I soon found Elza before me, looking up with her questioning eyebrows raised. Blinking, I lifted my eyes to hers.

"The books, album, and jewelry is Bella's," she whispered gently as her hands deftly sorted through the pile and Moose wove around our legs. "The rest is for you and his fishing gear is in the bag."

My eyes flickered back to the said sack, a long pole I hadn't observed before protruding out of it. My mind was too far away to note her breaking voice as I studied the objects.

"The box," I murmured hoarsely, holding my hand out for it as my feet closed the distance between us. Grabbing it before Elza even had a chance to reach for it, I threw off the lid, the wood softly landing on the lush carpet as the light danced off the glistening belongings.

A rusted jagged key was the first thing I saw, hooked on a silver key ring that held the key and a plastic disk bearing the word _house_. Next to it lay a large engraved ring, a deep golden band embedded with a shining ruby. Sprawled around both was a delicate silver chain, a smooth locket hanging off the end. Although my long fingers itched to caress the items connected to her, they froze over the lip of the wood, as if deterred from reaching the contents by an invisible shield.

"The key is obviously to our house," Elza said. "Then his class ring from high school and the locket is mother's." She lifted the necklace out of the box, the fragile chain trailing behind it. "I think . . ." she continued, biting her tongue between her teeth as she struggled to open the heart-shaped pendant, "That there's a picture of both me and – aha!"

The locket fell open, revealing two miniscule pictures on either side of the heart. One was, as Elza said, a picture of herself; a school picture on blue background, probably around when she was eight. Opposite was a sixteen-year-old brunette with chocolate eyes and blushing cheeks. The picture of her was a candid shot, caught in the act as she laughed, showing off opalescent teeth. Two sisters.

_Riiiiiiiiiiing!_

With speed that could impress a vampire, I flicked the phone open, crushing it to my ear. "What?" I spat.

"Stay where you are," the voice growled vehemently.

"I'm not going anywhere, Charlie!" I yelled, turning away from Elza, whose head had snapped up instantly. "Where would I go if I had the desire?"

"Either way, you are staying in that hotel," he hissed.

"I'm not a child," I snarled, running a hand through my hair as I walked back to the rigid window.

"You're not indestructible, either!" he shouted back at me.

"What do you care?" I screamed, making a scared Elza squeak in the background. Silence rang in my ears, very loudly. Fuming, I slammed the phone shut, rotating to face my terrified and slightly angry companion.

"What'd you yell at him for?" Elza shrieked, her high-temper flaring up, exploding like dynamite. The same impenetrable silence suspended in the air, thick and piercing. The woman's eyes flashed, her scowl becoming prominent on her features. "You know he's torn up over Bella!" her voice screeched as she threw her hands up in the air, my inherited objects now lying on the floor.

"Oh, and I'm not?" I retorted brashly, advancing on her.

"She's his daughter!"

"She's my life!"

Ignoring my comment, Elza continued her rant. "And even though Andrew's not related to him, he took his death as a hard blow, too! You have _no right_ to treat him like that!"

"And you're not taking into consideration how _I_ feel?" I yelled, my voice probably acute enough to rattle the window behind me.

"My father's not human!"

"Yeah, and I'm so full of life," I bellowed sarcastically.

"Stop making this about you! Do you even _care _that Andrew died? He was my brother!" Elza spouted, gesturing her arms wildly as she circled around me.

"Of course I care! He was as good as my brother, too!" I shot back at her, sneering.

She exhaled furiously. "You're not related to us!"

"But it's not like I never eventually planned on being relatives!"

Elza laughed madly, throwing her head back. "You can't propose to Bella if you don't find her, idiot."

"Which takes us back to the beginning," I sneered, my chest rising and falling, my voice even gruffer than it ever was before.

She scoffed. "Have fun with your scavenger hunt, Edward. Let me know when you finally give up."

And without further ado, she turned angrily on her heal, marched out of the room, and slammed the thick door behind her without a backwards glance. My rage peaked and I kicked a small end table over, letting it all out. Walking to the closest wall, I banged my head against it, hoping I could just fall unconscious for a few hours. My energy weakening, I gradually leaned on the wall, rather than jamming my head into the wallpaper, and eventually slumped to the ground. As though my wish was granted, there must have been a higher force that allowed me to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

.:o0o:.

"Meow."

A cold and small button nose nudged my cheek, opposite of the one flattened to the carpet, the pattern most likely molded into my skin. Moose's sandpaper tongue slid across my nose, tickling the nerves. Groaning as my eyes opened, I twitched slightly, stirring from my sleep. My body was curled in an uncomfortable position, perpendicular to the wall where I had previously bashed my skull into repeatedly.

I lifted my heavy head, feeling as if I had a hangover, though the last time I had touched alcohol was that fateful day over a year ago. The feline's tail wagged back and forth slowly, his beady green eyes staring at me expectantly. My eyelids blinked a few times, trying to bring the picture into focus.

"Meow."

The cat tilted his head to the left, the shiny emerald questioning. Disoriented, I picked myself off the floor, balancing on my weak legs. I tentatively put one foot in front of the other, swaying to each side. My right hand swiftly reached out to grab the leather recliner to stabilize myself. My glance drifted downward to the inheritance items cluttered on the floor. The memory of before – last night, according to the microwave clock – came rushing back to me.

Moose rubbed against my legs, the pale sunlight showing through the window glinting off his red-brown hair. Trotting over to the hap hazardous pile of books, he made sure I was watching before pawing the small black book. In a daze, I followed, slowly bending down to stroke the feline's head and grasp the book.

As if twenty strings pulled at my chest as the pages fell open in my hand, my fingertips grazed over the all too familiar handwriting of my former best friend. An address book.

I wasn't fully awake enough to ponder the reason why Andrew had his stepsister's address book or why he had left it to me. My fingers deftly flew through the alphabetized pages, noticing Andrew's sloppy scrawl either circling, starring, or making short notes around certain entries.

Moose purred at my feet.

I flipped the pages quickly with my thumb when something within the pages caught my eye. Opening to the letter "V", three things adorned the page.

A picture of a stone castle was taped to the page, depicting five black-cloaked figures with startling red eyes.

The address of Volterra, Italy was underlined, circled, starred, and marked in any other way Andrew could think of.

The third thing on the page was two words in Andrew's script I whispered aloud. "Paris, France."

"Meow."

.:o0o:.

**AN: **Umm, not much else to say except that I'm sorry in advance for the delay of next chapter. Anyways, though it's short, I'll try to make up for it, a little, with a sneak peek.

**Sneak Peek: **_The routine of packing, boarding, landing, and unpacking was becoming a dull, familiar task to me. Though it was Moose that motivated me to come here, he still hates planes. He was sick of the monotonous habit, too. _

_I was just worried that my continuous and repetitive feeling of guilt wouldn't subside._

Love you all . . . I don't deserve loyal readers like you guys,

Laura


	7. Chapter 6: Unidentified

AN:

**AN: **Okay, I know this is short, but I really wanted to get this out. I hope I did a good job with the Bella POV.

**Mini Recap: **_I flipped the pages quickly with my thumb when something within the pages caught my eye. Opening to the letter "V", three things adorned the page._

_A picture of a stone castle was taped to the page, depicting five black-cloaked figures with startling red eyes._

_The address of Volterra, Italy was underlined, circled, starred, and marked any other way Andrew could think of._

_The third thing on the page was two words in Andrew's script I whispered aloud. "Paris, France."_

"_Meow."_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

.:o0o:.

**Chapter 6 – Unidentified**

**Bella**

Leaning over the pristine toilet, I emptied the contents of my stomach – chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice – and let my skull fall against the icy side of the tub, cooling my heated head. _Ugh_. Just the thing to wake me up. _Puking._

Minutes later, my sickness calming down for a moment, I roamed through the hotel living room, dodging the heaps of clothes strewn across the floor, making my way to the telephone situated on a small end table. My fingers fumbled with the phone as I picked it up and tried to dial room service numerous times. My fingers itched to press the pattern of buttons that would connect me to _his_ phone, but I resisted, though it did take me over five minutes to reach the downstairs lobby.

"Room service," an overly perky female voice answered.

"Hi, um," I replied uncomfortably, then asked, "Do you have any strawberry waffles?" I was suddenly in the mood for some.

"Er," she said warily, "We only have one waffle left."

_What?_ "Can't you just make some more?"

The girl's perkiness was completely gone. "Breakfast is over now."

"I want waffles," I hissed, getting angry.

"I – I'm sorry, m – ma'am," she replied, fear evident in her voice as well a silent question of my sanity.

"What the hell? Whatever happened to the customer is always right? What about people who don't wake up until noon and want breakfast, huh? Do you tell them that, too?" I screamed, frustrated that she was not going to let me have my waffles. "Did it ever occur to you that I may have a fatal disease that can only be cured by strawberry waffles and I'm dying of it right now and YOU won't give me my. Freaking. Strawberry. Waffles!"

I only noticed when I could hear through my heavy breathing that I had been hung up on. Growling, I threw the phone across the room. That didn't work out so well, seeing as it wasn't cordless. I winced slightly when the phone hit me in the knee.

Pain didn't really affect me anymore. Ever since . . . well, since I left, nothing could really compare to the agony I felt when I deliberately hurt the love of my life. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that it was for his own good, I couldn't help but be a shadow, an empty shell, of the person I used to be. I had no world now.

I still cried myself to sleep every night, lying in bed with one of his shirts that I had stolen. Besides that, and occasional spouts of anger, emotions usually avoided me. I couldn't even remember the last time I blushed. Eating was a rare thing for me, though I knew I needed the nourishment and my skin had gone from a creamy color to a sickly pasty hue. Anyone who took a quick glance at me automatically did a double take, wondering if they had seen a ghost.

My heart had been at a standstill lately, although I was thankfully grateful for what God had granted me with. When the mental walls inside my mind mysteriously vanished, I wondered whether he really meant those last words he bellowed to me, the confession I longed to hear for who knows how long. It was out of the question to doubt my love for him, but did he even _really_ know of it? Did he believe _my_ last confession, hastily scribbled in ink onto an old doctor's pad?

I sighed, shivering.

Closing my eyes, I was met with the familiar feeling of loneliness, an un-beating heart pining for the impossible inside my chest. Every second of consciousness, and even those moments of disturbed resting, my fingers craved to entwine themselves in his again, my lips yearning for those soft caresses his presented.

I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that this was going to happen eventually. I knew that this was the reason I withheld myself from declaring my love for him sooner. I knew I would hurt us both beyond repair. I knew.

Hatred filled my every cell for the thing – I couldn't bring myself to even give a name to the creature; it didn't deserve one – that made me leave. That caused not me, but caused _him_ this pain. The strong passion for killing it was hot within my blood.

I scrunched my eyes even tighter, trying to banish those forbidden thoughts. I couldn't bear to think about it.

Still grumbling about the waffles an hour later, I sat on the itchy-fabric couch watching TV with a bowl of white-chocolate popcorn resting between my legs. As a Christmas commercial came on screen, a loud knocking emitted from the entranceway. Crinkling my nose, I carefully stood up, waddling over to the door, wrenching it open to find a disheveled Andrew leaning against the wall, clutching a stitch in his side.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?" I asked, pulling him inside.

The two words out of his mouth broke me into an indefinite amount of crumpled pieces, ripping apart my already-mangled heart.

"They know."

.:o0o:.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I clutched my chest, the usual gesture after I woke up from this particular recurring nightmare of last Christmas Eve. I fell back onto my bed, staring up into the darkness at the black ceiling. My eyes filled again with tears for the second time that night. Pulling the covers up to my chin, shivering in nothing but panties and his old t-shirt, I rolled to my side, facing the window.

Beyond the glass lay the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower. Sighing heavily, I gradually drifted to sleep again, the gentle lullaby of soft breathing – the quiet inhales and exhales of the closest link I had left to my Edward – humming in my ears.

.:o0o:.

**Edward**

Paris, France

The routine of packing, boarding, landing, and unpacking was becoming a dull, familiar task to me. Though it was Moose that motivated me to come here, he still hates planes. He was sick of the monotonous habit, too.

I was just worried that my continuous and repetitive feeling of guilt wouldn't subside.

As I stepped into the bustling long halls of the airport, Moose's cage in my left hand, an enormous trunk in the other, something small and fragile ran into me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Looking down, bewildered, a head of pastel purple hair that reminded me of Easter eggs filled my sight. The short girl looked up at me with large aqua blue eyes, her painted-white face filled with shock. Tilting her head, the short purple bob flowing to the side, she reminded me of a younger, more eccentric – if that was possible – Alice. Taking a closer look, she was wearing a dark blue camisole matched with a large, frilly vibrant purple tutu. Her legs were clad in argyle gray and lime green tights with checkerboard canvas shoes on her feet.

She blinked a few times, then plastered a large smile on her face – revealing red and pink braces – and held out her hand, looking expectantly at me.

Hesitantly, I grasped my hand in hers, as she said at top speed, shaking my hand up and down wildly, "Hi! My name is Pela Waters, I'm seventeen years old, and I'm really sorry for bumping into you."

"Uh, Edward Cullen," I replied cautiously. Ever since I grew up with my sister, I had an irrational and secret phobia of people who looked like they had too much coffee in the morning. The girl looked so familiar, though, that I wouldn't be surprised if she suddenly announced that she was Alice's long lost cousin or something of the sort.

She looked around her quickly, her eyes lighting up at something. "Can I interview you for a class project?"

My eyebrows pulled together. "Uh . . ." I trailed off.

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed excitedly, pulling me by the arm down the hallway in the opposite direction I was coming from. What seemed like seconds later, the strange girl pulled me through a door marked 'Concierge'. Frowning as she closed the door, my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.

"You can let the cat out of his cage," she told me animatedly, flicking on the lights. I blinked a few times, my eyes readjusting again, and my jaw dropped open.

"A janitor's closet?" I asked incredulously, yelling at the top of my voice.

"Welcome to my office," she said with a flourish.

"Your . . . office?" I questioned confusedly, looking around at the multiple volumes of cleaning supplies, "You work here?"

She snorted. "No," she answered as if it was obvious. "It's a figure of speech."

"Oh," I said dully, letting Moose out of the cage. As soon as he was free, he bounded over to Pela, who picked him up, twirling around with a bright smile on her face. When she almost ran into a mop and bucket, I chuckled.

"Okay," Pela said when she was done cuddling the cat. "Interview."

She sat down on an old milk crate, crossed her legs, and tilted her head at me again as I looked at her crazily. I had suspicions that she was used to looks identical to the one I was throwing her way now. Though her face was painted with white face paint – for whatever reason, I couldn't fathom – a slight blush peeked out from beneath, tearing at my heart. I gulped, trying to keep my feelings at bay.

"Why am I doing this again?" my voice asked, my arms crossing themselves over my aching chest.

"Impulse," she replied smoothly. "Now, tell me why you have a permanent scowl pasted on your face."

My nose wrinkled. "To make a long story short, the love of my life left me. And I can't find her."

"Ahhh," Pela said knowingly. "I see, I see."

I scoffed. "No, you really don't."

"Of course I do," she snapped, standing up. "She abruptly left you when you finally fell in love, disappearing into oblivion. You've sulked for a while, then finally realized that there's no point in not going after her and now you have no idea where to find her so you're just roaming around Earth, going wherever this cat tells you to."

My eyes widened at her as she took in a deep breath, the air tickling my face seeing as she was but four inches away from me. "Who. Are. You?"

"No one of your concern," she breathed, her aqua-colored eyes staring up at me through long black lashes.

And before I knew it, Pela had pinned me up against the door of the closet, her lips pressed to mine desperately. Something tugged at my heart, my stomach, my mind as her long fingers wove into my hair.

I opened my eyes, shocked into silence. The girl had disappeared.

The on-going guilt consumed me once again. For a different reason.

.:o0o:.

**AN: **If you have ANY suggestions at all, I'd be very appreciative. Thanks guys!

Laura


	8. Chapter 7: A Long Time Gone

**AN: **Okay, so this is a little long overdue. Um, just read, I guess. Hope you like it.

**Mini Recap: **_And before I knew it, Pela had pinned me up against the door of the closet, her lips pressed to mine desperately. Something tugged at my heart, my stomach, my mind as her long fingers wove into my hair. _

_I opened my eyes, shocked into silence. The girl had disappeared._

_The on-going guilt consumed me once again. For a different reason._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 7 – A Long Time Gone**

**Edward**

My head lie against the cooling stone-topped table in the fresh outside air or Paris. The quaint café was located somewhere within the vicinity of the Eiffel Tower. Multiple waiters had sauntered over to me every couple minutes, holding an ordering pad while asking if I wanted anything in heavy French accents. My eyes were closed; my arms limp at my sides.

The ghost of ice-cold lips still lingered on mine, gently kissing my skin. I had been trying for the past forty-six hours to banish the guilt-filled memory. My lips let a moan escape, pleading for her . . . for Bella. I groaned loudly, lifting my fist to the tabletop.

Though my eyes were covered with my lids, my eardrums picked up the now familiar sound of the squeaky wheels of little Junebug's stroller. The small child's mom had repeatedly ambled by, entranced by the Tower, amazed by its beauty and immensity. Annelie, I think her name was.

The squeaks stopped, followed by a soft sigh.

"Monsieur," the woman, Annelie, said exasperatedly. Her French accent was potent, though overwhelming; her English was fluent, but the high soprano voice sounded false. "Please, sir, tell me what is wrong. It gives me pain to see you very broken."

The genuine concern in her faux-toned voice caught me off guard. Raising my head, I looked up through my lashes to meet a gaze of chocolate, taking another ice shattering hit on my overall mood. The woman's face was carefully composed behind a complacent mask, and to me, it looked like she was struggling to keep it intact.

The red-haired baby caught the corner of my eye as I whimpered and set my head back down. Slammed, more like. It didn't hurt. Even though it caused me a loss of brain cells.

Warm fingers lightly touched my clenched fist, the opposite spectrum of Pela's skin. I shivered at the memory and pulled my hand harshly away.

"Please, monsieur," Annelie whispered. "Tell me." Her voice broke as she glanced at the peaceful, sleeping baby, his pale purple lids fluttering. I straightened my back, then slumped in my chair, staring off into the blue sky. I grimaced when my mind compared it to the color of the aqua eyes that now haunted me.

I sighed; I told this story much too often to be healthy. "I don't know why I'm still searching for her," I confessed almost inaudibly. "Elza was right." My head fell into my hands, rubbing my temples, trying to soothe my aching brain. "I'm not going to find her. It's a _long_ lost cause." I whimpered again, slamming my head into the rock-hard table once more. "She's gone."

"You loved . . . _her_?"

Tears escaped my eyes, my gritted teeth and clamped lips holding back tortured screams of anguish. And I faintly nodded my head. Lifting my cranium fractionally, I let it bang back down, courtesy of gravity. Repeating this several times until I had a minor headache, I looked up again, just in time to see a girl on a cotton candy blue bike yell over her shoulder 'Could've had a V8! Zut!' and then crash into a garbage bin. Onlookers snickered.

"Could've prevented this altogether," I mumbled quietly.

"Oh, Edward." Her voice was laden thick with emotion, so intense that it made me think she wanted to crawl into a corner and curl in a fetal position, rocking back and forth just as much as I did.

My water-stained eyes spilled over at the uncanny familiarity of her voice as she spoke my name. It vaguely occurred to me that I had never actually introduced myself, only emitting a grunt as a response to her initial greeting. _How did she know my name?_

I looked confusedly up at her and followed her gaze to her yawning son and the infant's glinting green eyes stared up at me.

I froze, blinked, and they were gone. My head gravitated harshly down onto the table again as I scolded my over-active imagination.

And the ever-present, overwhelming blackness consumed me like never before.

.:o0o:.

Liverpool, England

I followed false leads over the entire globe for the next eight agonizing months. My pointless travels had taken me pretty much everywhere. With my very own eyes, I had seen the Great Wall of China, the pyramids of Egypt, every historical monument, not just in the United States, but throughout the seven continents. (And let me tell you, Antarctica was _hell_.) If I had a map of the world with a red pin stuck straight into the heart of each of my expeditions, the only colors visible would be silky white, sky blue, and a second sea of scarlet.

My left-over college fund had dwindled marginally since I originally set out from Washington last June, but with my extensive amount of Frequent Flyer Miles, I didn't need to worry all too much about money.

Moose had given up on me a long time ago, getting sick of the chronic traveling. Still, he had led me to wherever I needed to search, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. Like they say, you can take the cat away from the intuition, but you can't take the intuition away from the cat.

I hadn't heard from Jake or Charlie since they left me in Peru. For all I knew, they could still be stuck in Volterra, captured by the Volturi. For all I knew, they could've given up on her and me. They could be dead.

For all I knew, _Bella_ could be dead. I winced.

"Edward, get a grip," the niece of my favorite redheaded café-owner told me, smacking me playfully in the back of my head. "And lighten up," she continued.

"You know I'll try, Marissa," I replied, smiling half-heartedly up at the teenage girl as I swiveled the coffee cup in my lithe fingers. The girl's straight brown-blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail at the crown of her skull, the morning light seeping through the large windowpanes glinting off each individual strand. A bright blue sweatshirt – with the name Nick stitched onto the fabric in mustard yellow letters, whom she claimed to be her boyfriend – and cut-off jean shorts clad her twig thin and super tall frame. On her feet were simple clogs and a folded white apron was tied around her waist, a crumb-scraper, notepad, and pencil occupying the pockets. The nametag pinned to her sweatshirt read 'Mar Mar'.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged animatedly, raising her eyebrows. "Do-It!-You-Won't-Do-It!"

"Calm yourself down, baby doll," Maggie scolded, interrupting her constant whistling for a moment as she refilled my mug.

"Sure thing, Mags," Marissa retorted nonchalantly, going back to her preoccupation of cleaning the front glass windows. Maggie sighed and sat down across from me, the familiar routine making its appearance.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen. It's been too long."

I chuckled lightly. "Maggie, it's only been a day."

"I know that," she said, grinning at me. "But before. I thought I'd never see you again, after you suddenly disappeared. I thought I'd never get to hear the rest of your story."

"I finished it for you yesterday," I complained, sipping the black coffee.

"I know that," Maggie repeated. "But I couldn't believe you left me hanging like that. Right at the climax!" She exhaled audibly again, then asked, "So, no new leads?"

"No," I answered automatically, watching Moose knocking over the spray bottle of Windex Marissa was using. I'd quickly deduced that the girl and felines don't mix all too compatibly. "Thanks for letting me stay with you guys, by the way," I said, hastily changing the subject.

"You're always welcome, dearie." Her hand patted my own.

"You're slow!" Mar Mar yelled, swatting at my cat with a dirty paper towel, trying to win back the Windex.

My companion and I laughed at the spectacle, then, turning my attention back to the redhead, I continued the conversation. "Why'd you relocate to Liverpool?"

"Well," said Maggie, fidgeting with her apron. "It's Marissa's hometown and I needed to take care of her so . . ." She trailed off.

"Oh," I blinked. "What happened to Marissa's parents?"

Maggie twitched involuntarily. "They disowned her."

"Oh," I reiterated.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Marissa finally grabbing the spray bottle back from Moose. The bronze-haired cat hissed, to which the victorious girl responded with the scream of, "How's it feel to want!?"

Maggie's frail hand patted mine again. "Glad to have you back." The elderly woman picked herself up and walked back to her post by the counter, dropping a maternal kiss on my head. My lips rose up in a genuine smile; I felt more at home than I ever had in the past.

"Ugh," Marissa plopped down in Maggie's previous seat. She sprawled the upper half of her body over the tabletop dramatically. "Your cat's a menace."

"No," I countered, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "It's just you he hates.

"Why the _hell_ would what's-her-face get you a _cat_ as a house-warming gift anyways? Who likes cats?"

"I-"

"God, Eddie," she interrupted me, "Why do you still love her anyways? She left you! Been there, done that!"

I grimaced. "Bella's everything to me," I mumbled into my coffee cup.

"Well, you're everything left."

"Thanks."

She laughed lightly. "Bella?" Marissa repeated, with one of her signature faces, "What kind of name is that? You really just need to get over her."

"But . . . I love her."

She snorted. "Sucks to your ass-mar, then!"

"You don't even know her," I replied angrily.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "She definitely sounds like a keeper, a winner, a prize. A real trophy wife."

My fingers fidgeted in my pocket, clanging the smooth band against the common handful of pennies. I swiveled the circular gold around my pointer finger, savoring the feel of the cool metal. Gracefully, I grasped it tightly in my grip and slid my fist onto the table. Marissa shot me a confused glance, her eyes shooting back and forth between my face and my hand. Unclenching my fist, the small band tinged lightly against the hardwood. Slowly, gradually, I lifted my hand and set it back down in my lap.

I raised my eyebrow, assessing the outspoken girl's expression as her own eyebrows furrowed. Shining in the sun, pictured in her eyes was the reflection of my biological mother's ring.

Her gaze flashed back to me eventually. "What? You're proposing to me? I'm flattered, but isn't that illegal?" She sent me a mischievous grin. Marissa's long, thing fingers picked up the ring and examined it closely. "What can I say? I like to live life on the edge; I'll marry you."

I chuckled. "Well . . . maybe it you were older, you'd be a fine candidate," I teased. "But this ring isn't for you."

"Is it for your trophy wife?"

"Yes," I murmured, "Yes, it is."

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: **First of all, this chapter is dedicated to my actual friend Marissa, a.k.a. Mar Mar, a.k.a. my semi-beta. The character Marissa in this isn't just a basis, it's really what she's like: SUPER COOL. Um, by the way, if anything Marissa in the chapter did or said agitates anyone, sorry. That's just Mar Mar.

About the last chapter, all I'm going to say is that Pela is pronounced like _pay-luh_ not _pella_.

I know that there's a big time skip in this chapter, but please don't hate me for it. It's essential to the plot, actually. And look! Maggie's back. That makes everything better, right?

Next chapter will be from Bella's point of view. And don't worry, the moment you're all waiting for will be here soon! (And keep your mouth shut, Marissa!)

P.S.: I think I might put Le Sort De Neige on haitus until I'm done with this story. I dunno yet, though.

Love you all and thank you sooooo much,

Laura.


	9. Chapter 8: Signed And Sealed

**AN:** So, most of this chapter is inspired from math class. Oh, and Maggie. Do you guys honestly not remember her!? To clear that up, she _was_ working her café in New York, but due to the Marissa circumstances, she moved to Liverpool and started a new café. Got it? Anyways, I tried to get this out A.S.A.P., so it's a little choppy. But I have Chapter Nine completely written, I just have to transfer it from my laptop to my regular computer.

**Mini Recap: **_Her gaze flashed back to me eventually. "What? You're proposing to me? I'm flattered, but isn't that illegal?" She sent me a mischievous grin. Marissa's long, thing fingers picked up the ring and examined it closely. "What can I say? I like to live life on the edge; I'll marry you."_

_I chuckled. "Well . . . maybe it you were older, you'd be a fine candidate," I teased. "But this ring isn't for you."_

_"Is it for your trophy wife?"_

_"Yes," I murmured, "Yes, it is."_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 8 – Signed And Sealed**

**Bella**

The wet sea of gray raindrops flickered by the compartment's gray window as I stared at my empty reflection. Intently, my dead brown eyes studied my face, noting how bare and vacant it looked. With over two and a half years of practice, my mind didn't wander too much. In fact, it was a rare occasion when I thought of anything at all. I didn't let my eyes see the dismal rain flashing outside, I didn't let my brain connect the gloomy weather with my former home, and I didn't let my heart throb painfully at the memory of what life used to be like.

Curling tighter into a ball in the corner of the plush seat, I pulled the complimentary blanket snuggly around my shivering body and rested my forehead against the glass pane. Closing my eyes, I drifted off into a land of horrid nightmares.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

When my eyes opened again, I was blinded by the bright sunlight of a normal Liverpool morning. Rubbing my eyes, I groggily sat up, feeling the comfortable hotel bed beneath me.

"Rise and shine, Bells," the husky voice boomed from behind me. Quickly searching the room, I found Jake cooking breakfast in the tiny kitchen. Leaning against the doorway, I folded my arms across my chest, watching my almost-brother flipping pancakes in a pan.

His smile widened when he saw me, like the sun. "'Bout time sleeping beauty awoke," he joked. I walked into the kitchen, swatting his arm playfully as I passed him on my way to the table. He set the mountain of pancakes down and sat across from me. Or, at least, I thought so. The pancake mound was so big, I couldn't see around it, and I was reminded of the leaning tower of Piza.

"Um," I said uncertainly. "I'm not _that_ hungry."

"I know," Jacob replied. "But I am." He divided the pile among seven plates and handed one of them to me, drenching his with syrup simultaneously.

I was a quarter of the way through my second pancake and he was halfway through his fourth plate when realization hit me. My eyes widened in fear as I looked wildly around the hotel room. "Where's –" I began.

"Out with Charlie," Jake answered between bites. "Charlie wanted a little bonding time. Plus he's making sure the area's safe."

"Oh," was my response, relief washing over me.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

My feet carried me into a bright, sunshiny café and through the front window, I could see it was a little crowded. That was good; easier to blend in. The wind chimes over the door tinkled as I entered, causing all eyes to turn to me, which, in turn, caused me to blush, something entirely unexpected. Hurriedly, I sat myself down at the nearest table, picking up the abandoned menu and hiding safely behind it. My eyes passed over the many appetizing items, but I wasn't hungry.

Reluctantly, I sauntered up to the counter, behind which a vaguely familiar red-haired woman hummed to herself. Lingering in the corner was an attractive teenage girl, cleaning cat sick. The said cat dashed by my feet, sending my brain into a confused frenzy, but I dismissed the déjà vu.

"How can I help you, Ms. . . .?" the redheaded waitress asked, smiling kindly with an indecisive glint in her eyes.

"Just Bella, please," I responded. At my words, the woman's eyes flashed with a multitude of emotions: fear, shock, disbelief, and finally, jubilance. A gasp emitted from behind me, and as I turned, I realized it came from the blonde employee. _Was I missing something?_

The elderly waitress slapped her hand over the younger girl's mouth, shooting her a Shut-Up-Or-You-Die glare. My brows pulled together in confusion, my subconscious instantly having its suspicion confirmed.

"Sorry about that," the woman, Maggie according to her badge, said. "My niece has some, er . . . issues." Maggie shot the girl another glare, then smiling kindly, turned back to me. "What can I get you?"

"Just an ice water," I replied vaguely, albeit warily. "With lemon," I added.

Ten minutes later, I sat with my lemon water, staring out the window as I reluctantly anticipated Charlie's old college roommate's daughter's wedding. He, obviously, couldn't go, and Jake wasn't much of a direct relative, so that left me to go in my father's place. I sighed, resting my cheek on my uplifted hand. I hated weddings; I hated dancing.

"Hello, there, beautiful."

The nasal voice made my nose crinkle. I scrunched my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and put on my best fake smile as I turned to face whoever was obviously talking to me.

A bleached-blonde, pale, and freckle-faced man stood smiling at me, leaning against the table with his palms.

"Hi," I said forcefully, willing him to go away with the sheer power of my eyes as my smile faltered. I knew the look on his face. God know I've seen it a thousand times.

"How about I show you a magic trick, if you'll be my lovely assistant," he grinned and winked.

"Uh . . ."

"Great!" Enthusiasm lightened his sky blue eyes. _Ugh_. I groaned internally.

He pulled a quarter out of his pocket, beaming at me and not breaking eye contact. "You see this quarter?" he asked, holding it out to me. "I close this and this hand," he continued, clamping his hands into fists, then held them both out towards me. Leaning into me – as I flinched back – he whispered, "Abra Cadabra!" He unclenched his fists dramatically.

"Wherever did it go?" I said sarcastically through gritted teeth.

He gasped, pulling it out from behind my ear. "There it is!"

"And there you go!" the young female waitress said, sliding smoothly into the chair across from me as I shot her a grateful glance; she winked, and then shoved the magician out of the way.

"My name's Mike," he continued, dodging the girl's nasty swipes with her three-foot-long arms. "Keep this as a souvenir!"

The quarter fell on the hardwood table, flown from his fingers. It landed tails up and the intricate design on the metal caught my eye. Tentatively, I slid it towards me with careful fingers to get a better look at the details. My eyes widened as I stared at the minted coin.

_Washington,_ the letters across the top read.

My eyes were glued to the letters, my vision blurred, and nothing making sense anymore. My body filled to the brim with the sudden desire to be back in Washington, to my old life, with him. With Edward.

What I wouldn't give right now to go back to that much simpler life, where myths were merely that: a myth. But this world isn't a sane place and I knew, in the bottom of my heart, that I needed to keep his world and my world as separate as I could at the moment. It was too dangerous. It was too dangerous to bring this upon Jake and Charlie, let alone . . . I shuddered to think the name.

I couldn't go back, I _couldn't._ I had been signed, sealed, and Lost in the Post; there was no going back. Yet, with all the burning cells of my body and all the fiery veins, I yearned to go back. The compulsion to jump on a plane and go straight _home_ was nearly overwhelming. If I hadn't known that he wasn't there, I wouldn't have ever been able to suppress the urge.

I ached all over with an itch that couldn't be scratched. The ache to hear his voice again, to remember the exact shade of his eyes and the peculiar bronze of his hair, to feel his soft warm hands brush against my skin. That was all I wanted in the world.

And I had given it all up.

For what and to what purpose? To protect him from the danger I presented. But now that he was wandering the world, just as I was, what was the point? Wouldn't . . . _that thing_ . . . be able to tell if he so much as knew me? I shuddered again. Where was the purpose now?

But, try as I might to make myself see reason, I couldn't. I couldn't find any excuse not to go to him, to find him. And there, in that realization, was my resolve.

I still loved him, and I'd bet everything in the world to know that he still loved me. Isn't that enough?

Wasn't it?

"Uh, you okay?" the girl asked, jarring me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry," I murmured, still dazed. "I'm Bella."

"I know. Marissa," she introduced herself, pointing to her nametag. "Or Mar Mar, if you like."

"Thanks," I said, blushing. This place brought out the strangest reactions from me; the blood pooling my cheeks wasn't quite as frequent an event as it used to be. "For before, I mean."

"No problem," Marissa replied. "But could you help me with geometry? We're doing these stupid triangle things." She made a face.

"Sure, sure," I brightened. "Three hundred and sixty degrees, right?"

"Euh . . . never mind." She bounded away, unnoticed notebook in hand, and disappeared completely into a back room. She was back within two mindless minutes, during which I heard her yell something about a 'trophy wife' over the crowd's talking.

"Sorry about that. Anyways," she resumed, propping her head up with her hand and picking lint off of her apron. "I'm having some guy troubles." Her face twisted into one of annoyance and frustration.

"I don't know if I'll be able to help you with that one," I said, ignoring her interruption. "But I'll try."

"I think you can help me." Her wry smile grew wider. "You see, Nick, my boyfriend, well . . . he's an idiot."

"What happened?"

"Ditched me at homecoming and made-out with some other girl. And then he got stoned, which tops that all off," she played with the Washington quarter, spinning it on its edge, making my head spin with it.

"And?"

"That's it."

"That's it?" I asked, bewildered. "Honey, you think _you _got it bad. You have no idea what I've been through." Her eyebrows furrowed, so I gave the story in a nutshell. "I had to leave the love of my life to protect him. And I don't even know if he truly loves me or not. _And I can't go back_." My voice broke on the last sentence, choking me.

"Trust me," Marissa said, not meeting my gaze. "He loves you."

"How do you know?"

"I just have this kind of feeling. So what's his name?"

"Edward," I said, the name tugging on my already aching heart.

"I know," she whispered again.

I tilted my head, confused. "What?"

Her eyes flew open in an _oh, shit_ expression. "Nothing. I, um, gotta go . . . talk – feed to my cat, Ed – Moose," Marissa stuttered. And without further ado, she ran away again, as if I had shocked her somehow. "Thanks!" she yelled over her shoulder; she was gone.

I sat there, going over her words again in my head.

_Moose?_

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN:** Okay, I know I've been slacking as far as Sneak Peeks go, but how about this. If anyone guesses correctly who was out with Charlie (and with Bella this whole time) then I'll give you a sneak peek of Chapter Nine, the chapter you guys have all been waiting for. And, really, I'm doing this to annoy Marissa, and since she already knows who it was, she can't guess, and she REALLY wants to know what happens in Chapter Nine. So help me annoy Marissa! It's a win-win situation, right?

P.S.: Did I ever tell you guys to go read "Coincidence" by sekhmetkitty002? 'Cause you definitely should.

Thanks so much!

Laura


	10. Chapter 9: Lost And Found

**AN: **Okay, I know you all are dying to read this, so I won't say anything now.

**Mini Recap: **_"Trust me," Marissa said, not meeting my gaze. "He loves you."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_I just have this kind of feeling. So what's his name?"_

"_Edward," I said, the name tugging on my already aching heart._

"_I know," she whispered again._

_I tilted my head, confused. "What?"_

_Her eyes flew open in an oh, shit expression. "Nothing. I, um, gotta go . . . talk – feed to my cat, Ed – Moose," Marissa stuttered. And without further ado, she ran away again, as if I had shocked her somehow. "Thanks!" she yelled over her shoulder; she was gone._

_I sat there, going over her words again in my head. _

Moose?

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 9 – Lost And Found**

**Edward**

_It's getting dark,_ I idly thought to myself as I released the steering wheel from my hand to run it through the disarrayed bronze mess atop my head. As I turned into town, my fingers fidgeted with my tie, trying to loosen the damn thing. Grunting, I cursed myself for falling subject to Maggie's persuasion.

"It's my cousin's son's wedding; I _have_ to go! And you really need to get out of the house," she said, smiling charismatically. "You spend too much time drinking coffee and doing those stupid number puzzles. Get out and have some fun. Please?"

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ I chided myself.

"If I have to go, you do, too," Marissa had told me smugly, as she straightened out her blue and silver-sparkled dress. I raised my eyebrows at her blue fake nails, a knowing smile on my lips. "Don't look at me like that!" she snapped. "I am _not_ going to make-out with anyone! They're my distant relatives, for crying out loud."

"Distant," I snorted, as she shot me a glare.

It was pitch black as I pulled up to the building where the reception was being held. I parked in the closest available spot and minutes later I was flying up the stairs, the beat of loud music pulsing through the floors. My eyes sifted through the horde of people seated at round tables cluttered close to the dance floor. Weaving through the half-drunk partygoers, I flew by the DJ and into my seat next to the redhead and her niece.

Maggie smiled up at me. "Why, don't you look dashing."

"Thanks," I replied, "You look beautiful, Maggie." I flashed her a grin, though it wasn't my crooked half-smirk. That had been gone for what felt like forever. She blushed, smiling back, and reengaged in a conversation with an elderly man across the table from her, in a smart gray tux. My gaze flicked over to a bored Marissa, who was examining her too-long nails, occasionally sending Maggie death glares. Her aunt had confiscated her cell phone, much to Marissa's dismay; she had an ongoing obsession with constant texting. "You, too, Marissa," I said, actually smirking this time.

Her brown and green eyes stared at me menacingly. "Shove it," she mouthed.

"Make me," I mouthed back. She stuck her tongue out at me. I chuckled in response.

Half an hour later, I sauntered over to the open bar with Marissa trailing in my wake. I ordered the first strong alcoholic beverage that came to mind and a beer and Mountain Dew for Marissa; I knew I shouldn't have, but I had fallen victim to her charm as well. Besides, the girl wasn't very good at holding her liquor and took only a few drinks to make her incoherent. I thought it was funny, she just thought it was plain fun.

We trekked back through the crowd of her 'distant' relatives, and I threw down the alcohol like water; I needed it. Marissa poorly disguised hers as soda. As we reclaimed our seats, the waiters marched out, handing each guest their food and pouring glasses of champagne. Marissa smiled at the full glass she was given as I grimaced at the waiters. Subconsciously, I still held a vendetta against any and all caterers – because that was the only excuse I had for Bella's departure – and I knew it was unjustified, but I couldn't help it anyways.

Everyone went quiet as all the toasts and speeches were dealt out, drinking when needed – Marissa more eagerly than anyone else – and clinging out knives against our glasses when we wanted the bride and groom to kiss. I patiently sat through the gooey love displays, willing myself to suddenly go deaf. Unfortunately, my hopes didn't get very far.

Everyone was finally bid to 'dig in' and I readily complied, my stomach grumbling. My lips turned up as Maggie animatedly talked to our fellow companions, gesturing wildly with her hands. I held in a laugh as I watched Marissa and the other kids scowl at the foreign food. Although I tried to contain myself, I spit my champagne out in hysteric laughter when Marissa unknowingly swallowed escargot and grasped at her throat with eyes as wide as saucers.

Half way through the second course, a latecomer plopped down on my left. Composing herself, a splash of strawberry blonde hair swished around in my peripheral vision. She settled down, greeting everyone by name at the table before she turned to me.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice said. "Look who the cat brought in."

I smiled half-heartedly, déjà vu tugging at my reluctant memory at the last time I had met this woman. "Hey, Tanya."

The woman tugged me tightly against her, the satin material of her maroon dress rubbing against my arms. "I can't believe it's you!" she squealed. "Your family told me you disappeared, just like Bella did."

I winced. "How are they doing?" I asked warily.

"I saw them two months ago, before flying to England," Tanya answered. "They were all fine, besides the never-ending worry they all have for both you and Bella. Russel and Mia are so grown up! And Rosalie's pregnant again! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Mmhmm," I muttered as I shoved some more pasta into my mouth.

"They all miss you both very much, you know," she continued to babble. "The way they talk about you two . . . its as if you died. They haven't heard from either of you in so long. Well, haven't heard form you at all, actually. And Esme. Carlisle tells me she still cries in her sleep, wishing for her two children to come home to her."

My insides cringed; I hated hurting my mother. Maybe I _should _just give up . . .

"Oh, Edward," Maggie gushed, shocked. "You know Tanya?" Again, the memory of that night pained me.

"Sure." My voice was a monotone. "We went to college together.

Tanya's eyes were wide. "You know Aunt Maggie?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

Eventually, the music picked back up, this time nice and slow, and as the bride and groom waltzed onto the dance floor, I graciously asked Maggie to dance. She complied, and as I led her to join the other couples, she continued her nonstop chattering. I nodded and smiled whenever I could get something in, while my ears blocked her out, my mind somewhere else entirely.

Tanya replaced Maggie when the old man – or, old to me – in the gray suit from before asked to cut in, taking a blushing Maggie from my arms. Shamelessly, Tanya flirted subtly with me, to which I unenthusiastically and dully replied. I was angered by her total ignorance – or maybe it was forgetfulness – of the fact that I was still in love with one woman: Bella. When she finally understood the gist of what I was trying to exude, she left me, scouting the dance floor for another unlucky (at least, that's what _I _thought) man. I have to admit, though, that Tanya _is_ really nice.

Marissa saved me from having yet another girl trying to make their move on me, for which I was grateful. She was very tall for her age, and with her notorious three-foot-long arms, she didn't have too much of a stretch to reach behind my neck. She was very clumsy tonight – more than usual – and I knew the drinks (notice the plural) had gotten to her head.

"So," she slurred shrewdly, narrowing her eyes. "Tanya, eh?"

"Shove it," I scowled, repeating her earlier words. "At least I'm not related to her."

Marissa's nose crinkled. "At least she doesn't have the hots for me."

We bickered like nasty siblings for quite some time, her clever, albeit drunk, remarks usually triumphing over my logic. As we twirled around, her feet deliberately – or maybe not – stepping on mine, I saw her eyes a tuxedo-clad boy of around her age lingering around the crowded buffet table.

"Go," I advised her, smiling meaningfully at her attempted subtle glances. She glowered at me threateningly. "Talk to him and see if he's a relative. If he's not, go for it," I encouraged.

She 'humph'ed at me, but conceded anyways. I smiled in victory; at least someone would get what they wanted tonight.

Another half hour later, I sat at our vacant table, nibbling and munching on hors d'oeuvres I scrounged off the plates the waiters were carrying, despite the fact that I still mistrusted them. Marissa eventually came back for a few minutes, fishing her phone out of Maggie's purse while her guardian wasn't watching. She plunked down in her seat, already texting away as she hastily tried in vain to smooth out her wrinkled dress.

"He's my fourth cousin three times removed," Marissa had told me nonchalantly. "But I made-out with him anyways."

"What are you doing here, then?" I asked her.

"He had to 'use the facilities'," she responded with a mischievous grin.

The unnamed boy came back for Marissa, much to her enjoyment, and whisked her off onto the dance floor, disappearing behind the many couples. I gazed out after them, my eyes zeroing in on each individual person and their partner. The bride and groom, who only had eyes for each other, danced as if they were walking on clouds, falling in love all over again. I spotted Maggie, in the arms of the gray-suited man, blushing and smiling shyly as he complimented her. Then I saw Tanya, the strong arms of a dark-haired man dipping her to the floor, kissing her cheek lightly as she laughed a tinkling trill. The room was so full of love, a muggy air that was difficult for me to breathe, my lungs on overdrive as I tried to regulate my inhales and exhales. My fingers absentmindedly fumbled with my mother's wedding ring, safely snug in my pants pocket.

I stood up, and my feet led me across the room, my eyes trying to find a balcony or an exit or something where there was fresh, clean, crisp air that a cynic like me could easily breathe in; the whole picture in this place was making my stomach nauseous, and I had to escape it.

I was halfway through the process of winding my way through the love-induced couples when I heard it. Heard the sound, the noise, the beautiful echo that saved me.

"Ahahaha," a high-pitched tittering laugh hummed in my ears, making me instinctively turn to the source from which it was resonating.

A tiny boy of what I estimated to be over a year old ran through the crowd, tinkling his precious laughter as his arms flailed around him, helping him keep his balance. He was dressed in a decisive black suit, the infant's tie flapping in his face as the tail of his jacket flew behind him like a cape. He was positively adorable, but his was not what held my attention and made my body tense up, frozen in space, in time.

The shock of unruly bronze hair flopped into his enormous eyes, almost obscuring the brilliant green of the irises. The boy jumped around in circles, his miniscule shoes tapping loudly against the hardwood floor, causing everyone else to stare at the innocent, endearing boy. His angelic smile was crooked and I knew I had seen this boy before. Not just once, but many times.

The first time he was older, about six years old, and he was a figment of my imagination. Junior, his name was, named after his father. Telling me about how he splattered his 'friend', Kara, with paint in art class at school; arguing with his sister about whose cookies were better, his mom's or his grandmother's. In my dreams, he was the son of a happy family of four, soon-to-be five.

I was in New York City, in a café run by Maggie, when I saw him for the second time. My dear redheaded waitress told me of his precious dimples, his name being Tony Junior. That day I had scrutinized the baby from afar and his mother had been frozen shocked when I met her gaze.

His pseudonym had been Junebug the last time we met, a baby with red hair, pushed back and forth in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, the squeak of his stroller wheels echoing in my aching brain. His mother, with her fake French accent and false high-pitched voice, was so familiar to me. She had known my name, though I never introduced myself to her.

The boy laughed again, giggling when he saw me completely frozen before him. Ad he looked up, his shockingly similar emerald eyes met my own, almost the exact color with a slightly darker shade to his. His bronze curls bounced as he laughed and was still messy as he stopped and we stared at teach other, both knowing who the other one was.

"Edward!"

Fear, anxiety, worry, and exasperation filled the all-too familiar voice as it called our name. A woman in her mid-twenties rushed past me from behind and cradled the little boy to her chest.

As she stood up, her back was to me, and I could marvel at the creamy skin of her back and legs. That whiteness of her skin was almost blinding and her petite frame was still as slender as I remembered. The black and gray spaghetti strap, puffy skirt dress sent long-gone shivers down my spine, bringing with it a surge of remembrance. The woman's luscious chocolate brown curls flowed freely down her back, rippling as she moved. I could tell you everything about that girl; her likes and dislikes, little quirks and favorite hobbies, nervous habits and her exact height. I knew, when she would turn around, that her eyes were a melting, coffee-colored, hypnotic brown.

"Mama!" the little boy said enthusiastically, a sparkling twinkle in his green, green eyes. His small hand touched the woman's smooth, creamy cheek momentarily as his gaze flickered to me. He raised his hand, pointing over her shoulder, pointing directly at me. "Wook! Dada."

Hesitantly, slowly but surely, she pivoted around, holding the baby boy tightly in her arms. Her eyes were closed, I could tell, but when she finally faced me head-on, the delicate eyelids fluttered open, revealing the molten chocolate of her shocked and hopeful eyes. The complete beauty of the young mother knocked me catastrophically breathless, rendered incapable of moving.

We stated at each other for eternity, her eyes wide with disbelief, denial, and many other emotions passing through the brown doe eyes; mine were too shocked to show any other feeling. I was dreaming, I had to be. It was too good to be true. _She wasn't standing there, she wasn't standing _right_ there . . . _

Breaking free of my motionless state, my feet moved me forward to cross the unbearable distance between us. My hand reached out to feel the unbelievable softness of her cheek, just to make sure she was real, that she was tangible. My breathing stopped as I gazed down into the eyes of my beloved. Her inhales her were haggard and as I spoke, she melted beneath my hand.

"Bella?"

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN:** A few things. First of all, I have good news. We angered Marissa up a bit. Ah, sweet success. Our winners were **bitemeplease235**, **SparklingTopazEyes**, and **casabellax**. Congratulations!

Secondly, this chapter was inspired mostly by _Let's Dance to Joy Division_ by the Wombats (which I don't own). Though this wasn't inspired by math class, Marissa wanted me to tell you guys this: "We're so dedicated to this story, we write fanfiction in geometry." Which, of course, is true. And by the way, Marissa only helps me with her stuff and reads the rest over my shoulder. So don't give her too much credit.

I'll make a new album for this story, because I have a few pictures I want to show you guys, such as the few dresses in this chapter, Marissa's outlines for chapters eight and nine (they're pretty nice), and a picture of what I think Moose looks like.

I think that's it. Except, since I have no idea when I'll get Chapter 10 out, I'm giving you a sneak peek.

**Sneak Peek: **_Tears were streaking down the angel's face, my thumb wiping them away. She didn't tear her gaze from mine and she didn't notice the saltwater streaming down her cheeks. This bliss was too surreal for me to notice the tears staining my face, too, and I couldn't care. The baby in my beloved's arms was silent, confused as he looked back and forth between his parent's crying faces; we didn't notice that either._

I love you all!

Laura


	11. Chapter 10: Kismet

**AN: **This is late, I know. I know I left you hanging right when they reunite. I know. I'm sorry. I totally meant to have this out Sunday night, because all last week I had pretty much never-ending play practice. But I digress. Anyways, ENJOY!

**Mini Recap: **_We stated at each other for eternity, her eyes wide with disbelief, denial, and many other emotions passing through the brown doe eyes; mine were too shocked to show any other feeling. I was dreaming, I had to be. It was too good to be true. She wasn't standing there, she wasn't standing right there . . . _

_Breaking free of my motionless state, my feet moved me forward to cross the unbearable distance between us. My hand reached out to feel the unbelievable softness of her cheek, just to make sure she was real, that she was tangible. My breathing stopped as I gazed down into the eyes of my beloved. Her inhales her were haggard and as I spoke, she melted beneath my hand._

_"Bella?"_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 10 – Kismet**

**Edward**

Tears were streaking down the angel's face, my thumb wiping them away. She didn't tear her gaze from mine and she didn't notice the saltwater streaming down her cheeks. This bliss was too surreal for me to notice the tears staining my face, too, and I couldn't care. The baby in my beloved's arms was silent, confused as he looked back and forth between his parent's crying faces; we didn't notice that either.

Time seemed to have stopped, but the memories of a thousand days and nights flooded my brain, remembering every second I had spent with this woman in my life. It was utterly impossible for me to think of the months I had spent away from her – which, in my mind at the moment, didn't even exist – and I couldn't ever remember being without this angel. The pain of all those empty months was washed away with our tears of joy and reunion; we hadn't been away from each other at all.

The billion questions running through my mind didn't exist, at least not enough to voice any of them. All I cared about was that she was here, she was alive and well, she was with me. Every cell in my body was screaming with elation, finally perfectly content, though another part of me was anticipating when I would wake up from this too-real dream. My arms wrapped around her and the boy, hugging me to my life, my family. I was finally – _finally _– home.

"Bella," I sighed again, the adoration and passion in my voice leaking into her hair; it was almost singing.

The scene seemed to have dissolved around me and my nose was still buried in the depths of her curls, her tiny arms wrapped around me. Nothing had changed, and yet we were somewhere else entirely. It wasn't until after I pulled away from the angel that I noticed we were standing on a balcony overlooking the city lights of Liverpool. Vaguely, I remembered driving Bella home, carrying both her and the kid inside, waltzing out into the night, my skin never breaking contact with hers all the while. This rushed blur, the pure bliss that decorated the memory, was all so new and painstakingly familiar to me, like an old routine that I had subconsciously forgotten.

My eyes darted up to hers through my eyelashes as I looked at her pointedly, reveling in the simple fact that I could really truly see her. The distance between us was a first since we were reunited, and it was breaking my heart, but the overwhelming joy that she was even within three feet of me was overpowering.

"Edward Junior?" My voice rolled through my cracked lips hoarsely, choking up on the last syllable.

"He was the closest thing left to me that had any connection whatsoever to you," Bella whispered, her voice weaving its heavenly way through my ears once again.

"That wasn't what I was asking."

She sighed, long and deep. "I know." Her eyes again slipped into the night as she looked into the glittering lights of civilization, her nimble hands gripping the railing.

"He's . . . mine? _Ours?_"

Her lips twitched. "Yes."

"How?"

Gradually, the glowing brown orbs locked with mine. "Do you remember your twenty-fifth birthday?" Instinctively, I flinched at her question and, after a deafening pause, she took it as confirmation. "Do you remember _all_ of that night?"

Slowly, as I tried to drudge up the memories of the said night and ultimately failed, I shook my head and she exhaled once again. "Neither do I." Many savored heartbeats passed as my brain tried to absorb her words, and then she continued. "All I really recall is waking up in the morning with nothing but your shirt on, the same shirt you were wearing the night before. No one else was sober enough to remember anything, either, so no one ever could have expected . . ." she trailed off, her entrancing voice fading into the velvet sky as her body subconsciously drifted towards me. "When Jake and Charlie found me in Volterra, I was so relieved. I don't know what I would have done . . ." She shuddered, my arms twitching in response, yearning to wrap around her small figure. But before I could act on the impulse, her words transformed into meaning in the back of my head, and I stiffened into stone.

"They found you in Volterra?" My words made her fingers squeeze around the wooden banister, her eyes flickering back and forth through the nothingness. "Bella?" I said again hesitantly. "Bella . . . why were you in Volterra?"

Her body automatically shifted away from me, but I caught her arm in moments, that notorious electric shock shooting though my fingertips and igniting my veins with scorching fire. As I spun her around, she willingly gave up, burying her face in my chest as her frail arms mechanically curled around my neck. It was the easiest, most natural thing in the world. I sighed, planting my nose in her lustrous brown hair, the familiar aroma of strawberries embedded in the silky strands.

"Shh," I murmured to a quivering Bella, causing lost tendrils of the wispy chocolate whirling in the wind. "Everything's fine, everything will be okay. Shh," I hushed her dry sobs, rubbing what I hoped to be soothing circles into her back as I held the most captivating, exotic woman in my arms.

"N-n-no . . ." she breathed through her hysterics, her fingers that were desperately locked in my hair tightening. "N-nothing's f-fine."

"Shh, Bella, love," I said quietly, gently picking her up in my arms, turning as I drifted through the night across the threshold with my pipedream-bride in my grasp.

"Edward," she whimpered, clinging to my body fiercely, hiding her face in the crook of my neck, resulting shivers raking through my bones.

It wasn't a difficult task to find the room where her bed lay half-made. The first bedroom had a king size bed with messy sheets strewn over the floor, but was still too small for what I remembered of Jake for the werewolf to sleep on. After peeking into the open room across the hall – filled with toddler toys, rocking chair, cradle and baby and all – I softly padded towards the last room in the suite, Bella's hand never leaving my skin as she absentmindedly re-memorized my face with her fingertips. Tenderly, though with the complication of never being separated from my Bella, I laid us down on the bed, cradling her limp form to the mould of me to which she fit so perfectly. Eventually, through the passing of countless, unmarked time, her tears dried up with the help of my soft kisses fluttered upon her blushing cheeks.

"Bella? Love?" I said into the skin of her forehead timidly as she nodded infinitesimally. "Did you – did they . . . What happened in Volterra?"

She stiffened visibly in my arms, her breathing more erratic as her eyes glazed over from the memory. The deft fingers lingering in my bronze locks once again clutched the hair firmly, but in response to what, I couldn't fathom. Fear? Anxiety? Rage?

"Tell me, Bella," I pleaded, planting kisses on her head, hoping the endless bond of our previous friendship wasn't too far-gone for her to keep from confiding in me anymore.

"It's . . . complicated," she breathed.

"We've got all the time in the world."

Something about my statement seemed to put her on edge, but she brushed it off, inching herself upwards as she stared deep into my eyes. Her hands grabbed both sides of my face, giving me no choice to look away (like I even had the strength to try!), her elbows lifting her minimal centimeters off my chest. "Edward," she murmured, her long eyelashes casting shadows even in the dim light. "What do you know? What do you know about Volterra? What do you know about Jake and Charlie?"

Unfortunately, I blinked. "Everything," I replied simply. In truth, it was easier just state it plainly than to explain all the stories and legends and myths Jacob had relayed to me over the span of two weeks. Her beautiful eyebrows rose skeptically. "Jake's a werewolf, Charlie's a vampire, and the royal Volturi vampires live in Volterra," I elaborated vaguely.

She sighed, her breath blowing seductively across my skin, my eyes fixating on her plump lips. Any longer and my self-control would burn out. Her fingers relaxed, tracing mind-boggling patterns into my cheeks and temples. Every breath pushed her closer to my body, fitting so perfectly to the contours. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in to me, the tip of her nose drawing a thin, blazing line up the ridge of my nose. My lips opened in protest as hers parted against the skin of my forehead.

"They found me," she whispered.

"Charlie and Jacob, you mean?"

"No."

I gulped audibly. "The – you mean . . . the V – the . . ." My lips couldn't form around the name, to confirm her silent answer; the all-consuming fear was too great.

"They found me," she repeated ominously. I couldn't speak; I couldn't find words to express the terrific fear coursing through my veins that had previously been flowing with all-consuming fire. After what could have been hours later, she continued softly. "I – I don't know why I ever fled there, it was stupid. But I had to get away, I had to –" She took in a deep breath. "Maybe it was just morbid curiosity, I don't know. But . . . they found me. A – as . . ." she shuddered, her breathing fast and uneven. "They c – caught me. B – b – bait for a f – fish. All the black cloaks, all the red eyes, gathered in the d – dinning h – h – hall."

She swallowed loudly. "But Aro saved me from . . . He saved me, kept me – _alive. _But I couldn't – I _wouldn't_ j – join them. Aro said I knew too much. Marcus didn't care, but Caius w – wanted me d – dead at all costs."

Bella inhaled deeply again. "They let me go."

It took me a few minutes to find my voice, let alone answer her, but, eventually, I managed, although I was stuttering, too, through my hoarse tone. "J – just like th – that?"

She didn't respond, but instead continued with her story. "Jacob literally ran into me as I walked out of that wretched castle. I'd put Junior under the most protective care I could find, but it still worried me. My scent was drenched over him and I couldn't get the thought of him even the tiniest bit harmed out of my head. It was too dangerous. Every move I made put him in a thousand times more danger, and there I was, dragging both of us into the middle of vampire capital. I'm . . . I – I'm a h – horrible m – m – mother," she sobbed.

"No," I countered, pulling her back into my arms, her face buried into the fabric of my white shirt, my fingers stroking through her curls. "You're a wonderful, beautiful mother. You can only do so much. You're only human."

"For now," she muttered through her sobs.

I froze, my eyes widening. "W – what?"

Bella wept even harder, louder. It took me a while to disfigure what she'd actually said, it was so unintelligible, but eventually I sorted out the garbled words. "They _will_, they _promised_ to change me . . . sooner or later. With later being the less likely."

"So, that's why . . . I mean, is that – is that why you keep fleeing? What you're running from?"

"N – n – no."

"Then what –" I began, looking at her shaking form with quivering eyes.

"Edward," she cut me off, her tear-filled eyes suddenly snapping up to meet mine. The smoldering desire aflame in her coffee-colored orbs made my insides melt. The electric current in our bodies sent shock after shock down my spine, tingling my every nerve. I knew that look, even though it had been absent from my life for the past two years. Even though I had only seen it in her eyes once. Even though I can't even remember what had followed after that, let alone the sole look itself. Even though I had been totally and completely wasted. I knew that look, and I was sure the same blazing passion was alight in my own emerald eyes. "Edward," she repeated, crawling on top of me again, her hands knotting in my hair. My heart skipped a few vital beats and my breath caught in my throat. "Distract me, Edward. Make me forget."

I was only too happy to oblige.

My lips were devouring hers the instant the last word escaped from her mouth. My hands – sneaky little buggers with a delightful mind of their own – had grasped her waist pulling her closer to me, paying no mind to the fact that we were as close as we could get. I forgot to breath, but then again, so did she; we didn't come up for air, there was no time. No time in which I had to suffer through the painful seconds to wait for this.

Her teeth eagerly tugged on my bottom lip, my mouth parting and dancing with hers. Though I consciously wasn't paying attention, her legs – damn those long, smooth, beautiful legs – had wrapped themselves gracefully around my waist as I sat up and pushed her back to the lush comforter. It would be a shame to ruin it, but I couldn't let go of her, not for an expensive bed set that was in my way when it had no right to be.

My stomach – although it felt as if it weren't even a part of my body anymore – clenched in anxiousness. My head filled with heavy craving, a fervent craving that my body knew only too well, while my brain struggled to keep up. I didn't have the willpower to even try to remember.

Our breath was coming out in short, gasping huffs, but even with the lack of oxygen, I found air enough to moan as her fingers quickly undid the stupid buttons on my shirt. Why were they even there? Pain in the ass, they were. Bella found the time to run her small hands down the planes of my chest before starting on my goddamn belt. Out of the blue, I was abruptly thankful for her flimsy dress. Silently, while our tongues dueled in never-ending battle, I prayed to God that she wouldn't mind if I ripped it off her body, hoping she didn't have a certain attachment to any of the clothes she was wearing. Or, not wearing, anymore.

I didn't have any last thought as I felt her nimble hands slide the boxers off my legs. I couldn't think. It was too much of a task. All I subconsciously wished for was the insane hope that neither Jake nor Charlie would return before morning.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: **First of all, I'm not completely happy with the ending. I suck at writing stuff like that. But other than that, I think I did a good job. The explanation was a little confusing, yes, but I'll explain that more thoroughly later. And then, a couple of things just wrote itself into the story, so I have to figure out how to work out those kinks later. I wasn't exactly planning on them.

On another subject, the movie. Oh God, the movie. My Twi-hard friends and I (including Marissa) went to go see it at midnight. It was freaking AMAZING. I totally thought there was going to be a riot, though, when the stupid people screwed up the movie reels in the middle of the movie. Seriously. My sister had her cars keys, ready to bolt out of there and everything. We even got pulled over by the cops at three in the morning when it was over. But that's another story.

Um, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I give my utmost thanks to Stephenie Meyer. Without whom, I would probably die from lack of Edward.

Thanks to everyone!

Laura


	12. Chapter 11: Family

**AN: **Sorry for the wait! Enjoy.

**Mini Recap: **_Our breath was coming out in short, gasping huffs, but even with the lack of oxygen, I found air enough to moan as her fingers quickly undid the stupid buttons on my shirt. Why were they even there? Pain in the ass, they were. Bella found the time to run her small hands down the planes of my chest before starting on my goddamn belt. Out of the blue, I was abruptly thankful for her flimsy dress. Silently, while our tongues dueled in never-ending battle, I prayed to God that she wouldn't mind if I ripped it off her body, hoping she didn't have a certain attachment to any of the clothes she was wearing. Or, not wearing, anymore._

_I didn't have any last thought as I felt her nimble hands slide the boxers off my legs. I couldn't think. It was too much of a task. All I subconsciously wished for was the insane hope that neither Jake nor Charlie would return before morning._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 11 – Family**

**Edward**

The crooked smile of my lips was plastered on my face way before I even noted the fact that I was awake. And, even then, I did not open my eyes; the very core of my being was still terrified that I was only dreaming. Of course, my smile only widened when I came to the conclusion that last night was definitely _not_ – nor _could_ it have been – a dream.

My body regained complete consciousness before my mind did. Rather, I realized that every inch of my skin was pressed to the angel's I held in my arms before I remembered where exactly I was. In truth, I had started to wonder if we were back in my apartment on the foggy cape in Washington and everything that had happened since my twenty-fifth birthday had been one long, horrifying nightmare. Which, I soon recalled too quickly for my liking, wasn't the case.

Finally, my lids tickled open, automatically flashing down to the sleeping beauty in my arms. And I gasped.

I was most _definitely_ dreaming.

The impossibly gorgeous goddess wrapped around my naked body simply and literally took my breath away. I'd died and gone to heaven in that very nanosecond I had looked down at the angel. Her soft, pale cheek was pressed against the hard planes of my chest, her face the very epitome of peace and grace. Lips of passionate rose petals parted over pearly teeth, two pale temptresses. The pastel violet of her closed eyelids were fringed with voluminous rows of long, lustrous lashes, then faded into the confident line of her prominent and full eyebrows. Sprouting from the marble-like surface of her forehead was a sea of sienna satin, flowing behind her as if a storm was raging on the wide, high oceans, mingling with the cream sheets strew around her magnificent body.

Her delicate left hand lay on my butterfly-filled stomach, her right on the side of my ribcage. Our legs were tangling in an unfeasible knot, utterly unable to ever become unraveled. Every deep breath, contracting her chest in and out, making my own breathing stutter ever so slightly, brought her warm chest upon my own, shivers plaguing my very core. The goddess's unearthly skin was an opalescent silky illuminant, outrageously smooth.

Sunlight bathed the entire scene, pouring into the bedroom from the blinding window. The glistening rays drew scarlet highlights in the chocolate waves and glimmering sparkles from the marble skin. She had walked straight out of my deepest dreams and longing fantasies, and yet, even my imagination couldn't have come up with a being more glorious than the one my gaze lingered on now. She couldn't have been of this planet and she couldn't possibly be any more dazzling. She was, for lack of a stronger and better term, beautiful.

And then the two cherry lips curved into a smile that would put the sun to shame.

"Mmm," Bella moaned, her eyes still shut tight as she stretched her thin arms, only to settle back into the same position moments later. I was thoroughly paralyzed. A bright pink tongue licked the alluring lips before she smiled again, cautiously opening her eyes. The coffee-colored orbs swiveled up to meet mine, deepening into a bottomless abyss of warm chocolate. Her smile widened, revealing her shiny white teeth. "Morning, Mr. C," she whispered seductively.

My heart beat loud and uneven, threatening to break out of my skin; I was positive she could hear it. "W – wonderful morning, love," I breathed.

Her smile transformed from one of innocence to that of mischief as she crawled upwards, her smooth skin gliding effortlessly over my own. I held my breath as she placed soft kisses down my nose, trailing to my lips. "Wonderful, indeed," she agreed against my lips. I kissed her chastely, again tasting the wonderful flavor of her lips.

We lay there in each other's arms, in each other's presence, for the lengthiest slot of time, until the sun filtered through the glass panes at a higher angle. Simply reveling in the beat of the other's heart, we were satisfied, content. Of course, the one thing that broke us out of our trance was the one thing I couldn't get mad about: Junior.

His cries weren't annoyingly loud and wailing, rather persistent and demanding. It was almost as if he didn't want to interrupt us, but ultimately had to, in the end.

Bella hesitated, kissing me again. "Ready to meet your son?" she asked softly, her red lips prodding mine.

I suppressed a moan. "Ready as ever," I replied, though my actions contradicted my words as I pulled her closer to me, kissing her a little more vigorously. My hands knotted in her hair in spite of themselves and she responded accordingly. My tongue traced the outline of her lips and she readily complied, opening her mouth and moaning loudly as my hands flew over her body . . .

But, apparently, Junior couldn't wait.

"Guess we should get dressed," I murmured, my lips tracing patterns into her neck.

"Probably," she said huskily.

Unwillingly, I slid from the bed and the warmth of the down (and not in such pristine condition now) comforter, groaning from the loss of contact with my Bella. She reluctantly followed my example and hopped down, walking to her closet and throwing it open. As she did so, a whopping pile of clothes fell out around her feet, looking like one of those kooky cartoons. The swarm of colors and patterns almost blinded me, if my eyes had not already been obstructed by the woman standing in the midst of the mess.

Tearing my gaze away from the peculiar sight, I hastily pulled my boxers on, trying not to think about Bella dressing behind me. Too tempting. Dully, I looked down at my formal black slacks, jacket, tie, and white button-up. I picked them up hesitantly, frowning at them as I turned to face Bella again. My eyes flickered up, question already forming on my lips, when my breath hitched and I froze.

She smirked at me, quickly buttoning her shirt and covering up the midnight blue mixture of silk and lace that immediately caught my eye. Blushing, I gazed back down at my clothes and fiddled with the belt still hooked in my pants, my lips grinning yet again at the memory of last night.

"Yes?" she asked over the muted crying of her child. She was suddenly in front of me, her fingertips lightly teasing the bare skin of my chest, sending now familiar tingles throughout my body.

"Um," I stuttered, attempting to rip my eyes from hers. I held up my handful of clothes as explanation.

"Oh!" she gasped in revelation. "Hold on, I'll go find you something of Jake's or Charlie's to wear."

Bella dashed out of the room, a swirling aroma of freesia emanating from her swift exit. Sighing, I turned my gaze to her closet again, stunned by the cascading pile of costume paraphernalia. As my eyes roamed the crinkled clothes, they pinpointed a few familiar objects.

The yellow curls of whose I remembered to be Vanya's tresses were buried under what I assumed to be a nun's uniform. From there, my eyes lingered on the smooth black wig and red floral blouse of the French Annelie. Subconsciously, I searched for the pastel and royal purple of Pela's hair and petticoat, respectively. They weren't among the mess.

". . . they fit, the pants might be a little big, but that's alright until you can go grab some extra clothes," Bella's voice babbled in my ear, pulling me half-way out of my trance as she held up the rugged t-shirt to my body. "Edward? Earth to Edward!" I blinked at her, trying to remember what she had said, as she waved her hands in front of my face. She rolled her eyes – probably at the spaced look coloring my features, which Marissa would no doubt dub as "slow" – and pulled me down to her level so she could properly kiss me, successfully jarring me from my subconscious thoughts.

Pulling away much too soon, she smiled to herself as she finally grasped my attention and reaching a hand up to stroke my unruly hair out of my eyes. I grinned in response as she shoved the t-shirt and sweats into my arms and proceeded to put them on as she piled the hap hazardous masses of outfits back into the small hotel closet.

Pausing, she held up the two wigs I had noticed from memory. "Do you remember?" she asked softly as she felt my presence behind her.

My hands clasped her shoulders as I buried my nose in her hair. "Yes," I replied simply.

"Did you . . . realize?"

"Not until I saw Junior at the reception," I said into the hollow of her ear. "Vanya and Annelie . . . what about Pela?"

Bella's petite form stiffened into stone beneath my hands. "W-who?"

"Pela Waters?" The intended response came out as an uncertain question. "What's wrong, Bella?"

She inhaled sharply. "Nothing," she retorted, her voice an octave higher than normal as she turned around to face me with a fake smile plastered on her face. "C'mon," she said in an equally faux excited tone. "Junior calls."

"Bella," I warned as she pulled me out of the room and across the hall. "What –"

"Shh," she hushed me, releasing her death grip on my hand and picking up _our child_ – the child I had dreamed about, the child we had discussed being so perfect once upon a time, the child that brought us together again – and placing a sentimental kiss on his smooth forehead. Automatically, he stopped crying as he stared up at his mother in awe. "Do you want to meet Daddy?" she asked him quietly, the false tone completely deserted from her voice, instead replaced with an intense loving nature. The anxiousness about Pela Whoever was gone, substituted with the gentle affection only held by a father for his child.

The significant thought hit me effortlessly. _I was a father. _

As my Bella passed Junior into my eager arms, a new love filled my veins that I hadn't known ever existed. I loved Bella with all my heart, but in my arms was something else that I held a different tenderness for entirely. My child, our child. Half of Bella and half of me. _My son._

His dark emerald eyes were alight with wonder and admiration as he stared up at me, reaching a tiny hand to touch my cheek. I smiled a bittersweet, crooked grin; he hadn't had a father for all his life. But now . . . _now he did._

Laughter spilled out of my mouth light-heartedly as tears simultaneously flowed out of my eyes. I lifted Junior over my head, spinning him around with my hands under his arms in a way only a dad could. His tinkling giggles joined with mine as a beam broke out across his face as well, showing the small white teeth growing through his pink gums.

Squeezing the adorable toddler to my chest, I hugged him with the happiness pumping in my heart. A wave of relief washed over my body as I held the baby Edward in my arms, the relief of union and family. My own son.

Bella's arms wrapped around my own and as a complete _family_ we cried with the joy of simply being together.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

To any random passerby, we would look like the picture-perfect young family. Me, sitting on the bench, with my arms around Bella's waist as she held Junior in her arms, both of us looking down in amazement at our son, his empty stroller to the side. But to anyone in the know, like Jake or Charlie, would know that this was just a stolen moment of peace before the storm came.

We had stopped back at Luna's Café so I could pick up some clothes – or, really, all of my stuff – and had to literally pry Maggie's fingers off of our arms so we could leave. Not an easy task, let me tell you. Marissa simply smiled deviously at both of us, exchanging significant glances with Bella and I. Well, at least someone knew what was going on.

And now we were here, spending time together as if we could make up for the lost time we had wasted. I knew it was pointless, that we would never get those years back, but that would never stop us from trying.

Anyways, it felt too good to not think about the sword looming over our heads. It felt way too nice to stop smiling. This was the closest to heaven we could come to.

Bella looked up at me, her never-fading smile growing brighter, just as mine did. Leaning down, I kissed her forehead, running the tips of my fingers over her blushing cheeks. This was how the world was supposed to be: simple and easy with no mythical monsters.

My lips lingered on her skin, every cell of my body unwilling to pull away from her; the desire was too great, too difficult to resist. She sighed, as if feeling exactly what I was, which was most likely the case. "You have more questions," she stated.

"Yes."

"You're not just going to let it go."

"Definitely not."

Bella pulled away, looking up at me through her thick fringe of midnight black lashes. My own green eyes stared down at her with the same conviction, almost daring her to refuse to answer. In her chocolate eyes, the glint was mirrored with a challenging glare, though her eyes were still deep pools of love. Our silent staring contest continued through the passing minutes, uninterrupted until Junior snuggled between us, giggling once again.

"Fine," I whispered softly, pressing another kiss to her skin. "Later, then. For now, let's just enjoy the moment. I doubt this will last forever."

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN:** Okay, lots of announcements. Kind of. First of all, I'm planning on getting this story finished by the end of Christmas break, because a) I want to get this done, b) I know you're all waiting for it, and c) we're starting to write short novels in English class by January and I don't want that to get in the way of this. Second of all, my amazing bestfriend and semi-beta, Marissa, is writing her own story (not any kind of fan fiction, her own story) and when she puts it up, you all should go read it, because, frankly, it's pretty epic. Plus, I am sort of her beta (her gramma's horrible) so, yeah. Thirdly, . . . okay, I totally forget the third part, but there definitely was one. Um, I don't know what I'm going to do with Le Sort De Neige. Oh! Thirdly, when this story is finished, I'll be doing some trivia on the whole story (including little tidbits, references, cameos, etc.) when it's done, so make sure you brush up on the story (plus all my author's notes!).

Love you all for the support.

Laura


	13. Outtakes & Retakes

**AN: **Here are some little scenes that didn't make the cut into any chapters (they aren't really very necessary). I really hope you like them, 'cause I do.

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post. Moreover, I do not own Sweeney Todd, the songs, or the lyrics.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Outtakes & Retakes**

**Envelopes – Edward**

(Edward's Point Of View In Chapter 8)

Licking envelopes was never my forte. Still, if I had to address and adhere one hundred and fifty envelopes for Maggie, well, I don't mind burning ten calories per envelope – total of three thousand calories, although that seemed perfectly ridiculous – when I had nothing else to do. I was on envelope number ninety-three, to _Mr. and Mrs. Cavalieri_, when Marissa burst through the door, in such a haste that in her rush, she tripped over the flat surface of the linoleum floor – typical Mar Mar – and flew into her favorite beanbag chair. I snickered under my breath at the clumsy girl I had come to love as a sister, though her klutzy tendencies pained my heart with memories of Bella.

"Edward!" she exclaimed, panting. "You – your trophy . . . wife is out there!"

I looked up at her briefly, raising my eyebrow at her skeptically, and went back to my envelope addressing. Maggie held a fondness for my unintentional calligraphy.

"Don't look at me like that!" she screamed, picking herself up from the depth of furry fabric. "You're slow! She really is out there!"

"Sure, sure," I replied.

"That's what she said!"

I shot her a look, narrowing my eyes.

"Now, now, now," Maggie said as she wiped a glass with an ever-dirty dishrag, walking into the back room. "What is all the fuss about? Edward, is Marissa bothering you?"

"To a degree," I replied, dotting my I's and crossing my T's in one swift motion, barely looking up from the table.

Marissa huffed. "I was just informing him of the _visitor_ we have today," she told her aunt poignantly. Maggie's eyes widened, though I hardly noticed it out of the corner of my eye. _Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, 73 Worchester Lane . . . _I wrote. Out of nowhere, or so it must have seemed to Marissa, Maggie's hand smacked the blonde in the back of her head.

"Ouch!" she screeched, grasping her head and glaring at Maggie. "Well, it's not my fault that the girl never passed her geometry class!" I chuckled involuntarily and Marissa grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine, then," she continued. "If you don't believe me . . . well, sucks to be you."

And without further ado, she stomped back into the café, Maggie trailing behind her as she muttered something that sounded oddly like, ". . . better keep her mouth shut."

I blinked. _Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill, 14 Trenton Boulevard . . ._

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Drunk In Love – Bella**

(During Edward's "pointless" eight months of searching)

Sydney, Australia

I pulled the light shawl around my shivering body, trying to capture the warmth inside my arms. Hopefully, Charlie wouldn't worry about me too much; I should've been back to the hotel by now. My strides lengthened as I walked quickly down the dimly lit alley, only two bars spilling light out onto the cobblestones.

_Maybe Charlie's following me,_ I thought even more optimistically. Doubtfully.

My heart threatened to jump out of my chest in fear, though my body knew greater peril than drunken men. The click-clack of my high heels – stupid death traps. Why did I even wear them? Not like Alice would see ever me in them – comforted me in the almost quiet of road, save for the occasional too-loud laugh or retching.

"Bella?"

_Shit._

"Bella?" the raspy, drunken voice asked again. My eyelids squeezed shut. This was _not_ happening. Not another hallucination. Damn it. I wasn't even in costume or disguise today. What if . . .? "Is that you, Bella?" he slurred, the too-perfect voice tainted with intoxication. I opened my eyes and snuck a peak down at the man. He was totally wasted. Thank god.

"Um," I said, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. _Well, what the hell? He's drunk anyways. Who says he'll remember?_ I kneeled down next to him, my blank brown eyes staring into his dead green ones. My hand unintentionally found its way to rest against his flushed cheek.

My betraying smile morphed into a disappointed frown as I took in his appearance. His clothes were tattered and surprisingly threadbare, but I was skeptical as to whether he even noticed that or the cold that loomed overhead. The exposed skin of his face and arms was dirty and slightly scratched as I wondered almost in a maternal way what had made it so. The bronze hair I loved was sticking vertical from the left side of his head, matted and greasy. He was carelessly sprawled against the dark brick wall, his appendages bent at sickening angles, his head scrapped against the rough wall, and his right hand loosely grasping a bottle of beer. Probably his ninth was my guess.

"Edward . . .?"

"Oh, Bella," he said, his lips curving upwards, revealing unusually dirty teeth splattered with blood. He lifted his head up, getting a better look at me, laughing manically. "You found me!"

"Edward, darling, what's wrong? What happened?" I asked frantically, my fingers gingerly brushing his face, fearing for his sanity. And maybe his life.

"Pfff," he spluttered, flapping a numb hand at me. "It was nothing. A few beers. A little bar fight. More beer. Just a busted lip, maybe a black eye. The usual." He ticked off recklessly before looking at me again, a new spark in his eyes. "And now you're here. My angel." He flashed a crooked smile and my heart melted as he stroked his filthy fingers from my temple to my chin, where his hand fell limply back to his lap.

"Mr. C," I told him assertively. "You. Are. Drunk. You're not going to remember any of this in the morning, correct? So how about we get you home before more trouble finds you." My body cringed, knowing there was an ulterior meaning to my words.

"Whatever you say, love," he replied, taking another swig of his drink.

"Let's get rid of that first," I added, swiping the bottle away from his lips before he downed another drop. He just stared at me with a dumbfounded expression as I threw the nasty alcohol against the alley wall, satisfied when I heard shattering glass hit the pavement.

"I wasn't finished with that."

"Yes, you were," I responded, hoisting him up with all my might by his arms. When I finally managed to stand him up straight, he swayed on one foot until he hugged me for support and I wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him up.

Together, we hobbled to the main street, Edward mumbling nonsense under his breath, which mainly revolved around dirty thoughts of him and me that were shockingly hard to resist. As soon as city lights poured over the sidewalks, I hailed a cab for him and helped him into the back seat.

Edward looked at me with an overwhelming aura of vulnerability, his eyes literally screaming at me not to leave him. I really wished he wouldn't remember a single second of this. Hesitantly, I leaned forward to chastely kiss his bloodied lips, smiling as I reluctantly pulled away. "You take care of yourself, Mr. C," I reminded him softly.

"I love you, love," he replied certainly, still drunk, but still one hundred percent sincere. I pushed back the tears in my eyes and closed the door.

The cab driver rolled down the window and I handed him a wad of cash. "Please just take him to the nearest hospital, I really think he needs it."

I watched as the yellow taxi sped off into the distance, making out the unruly hair that belonged to the person occupying the backseat. As soon as it turned a corner, racing out of sight, I groaned in unmistakable agony, angrily ripping the three-inch heels off my aching feet. Walking home, I tried to concentrate on nothing but the throbbing soreness of the blisters forming on my mangled feet, which was comparably nothing next to my heart.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Attending The Tale – Edward**

(About a month later, still during his searching)

Rome, Italy

My fingers fiddled idly with the inch thick program as I gazed at the ruffled scarlet curtain, my eyes telepathically willing it to open. I don't know why in the world I ever actually convinced myself to go see this – live, no less – when I had promised myself what seemed like ages ago to never watch it again. _Stupid cat._

In moments, the lights blinked off, the curtain opened, and a man with an opera voice stepped on stage and started singing. Kill me now.

"_Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.  
__His skin was pale and his eye was odd.  
__He shaved the faces of gentlemen  
__Who never thereafter were heard of again.  
__He trod a path that few have trod.  
__Did Sweeney Todd,  
__The demon barber of Fleet Street."_

Not only did I dislike this musical, but it also brought back memories I would rather have locked up in the back of my head forever. Flashing images of Bella twirling in my living room, mimicking the characters on screen, making up her own lyrics, kissing me . . .

_Shut up_, I reprimanded myself. As the play bloomed in front of my eyes, my mind wandered aimlessly. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why Moose had told me to attend this performance. As a commemoration to Bella? That hardly seemed likely. What was the feline trying to tell me? To show me?

_"A customer!  
Wait! What's your rush?  
What's your hurry?  
You gave me such a...  
fright! I thought you was a ghost!  
Half a minute, can't ya sit?  
Sit ya down!  
Sit!  
All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks."_

My gaze sluggishly drifted to the singing actress, my eyes taking their jolly old time to focus on the deranged woman, her vibrant red hair bouncing up and down as she continuously beat the poor counter with a rolling pin. She danced around the main character, the tails of her floured dress swish-swishing about the floorboards of the stage, her voice sprinkled with the tiniest bit of a British accent, though I could tell it was fake. I squinted my eyes as I subconsciously leaned forward in my chair, trying to get a better look at the woman as her voice rung many a bell in my mind.

"Down in front!" a scratchy voice hissed from the row behind me.

"'Scuse me, pardon me, sorry," a booming whisper interrupted me from my reverie with 'Mrs. Lovett'. My eyes widened at the second familiar voice I'd today as I looked up in disbelief at none other than my brother.

"Emmett?" I choked out bewilderedly.

"Hey, man," he whispered excitedly, clapping me on the back as he sat down in the chair next to me. "Thought I saw you. Damn. What happened to you?" he asked when he took in the whole of my appearance. Emmett seemed to find a mistake in his choice of words and cut me off before I had a chance to open my mouth. "I, mean, uh, what have you been doing for the past year?"

"Shut up!" the same man yelled angrily at us.

Ignoring him, I raised my eyebrow at Emmett skeptically. "Oh," he said, realizing the obvious. "Right."

"What are you doing here?"

"Second honeymoon with Rose. She's pregnant again, you know," he replied, reclining in the seat momentarily, scratching the back of his neck in nervousness.

"Yeah?" I asked, barely aware of what he said as I was now watching the redhead onstage again.

"Edward, look," Emmett began, eyeing me cautiously. "You're my brother and you used to be my best friend. _Used to_. But, man, I miss you. We all miss you. And I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Mom's beating herself up over the whole thing, muttering to herself how she didn't raise you right or whatever. She's so messed up, _she doesn't even cook anymore._ And Alice. Well, Alice will be Alice, with her freaking premonitions, but she hasn't gone shopping in two months. _Two months._ We miss you, bro. We miss you like hell."

I looked at Emmett incredulously, seeing as his little monologue was the most I've ever heard him say in one breath. But most importantly, his words hit home. Hard. "I –"

"Save your breath, Edward," he hushed. "I know you're not coming home until you find her. I understand. But would it kill you to drop by for a visit? Just so we know you're still alive and kicking."

"I swear, if you two don't shove it, I'll . . ."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Emmett retorted shortly to the intrusive man. Standing up, my brother rumpled my hair affectionately, and said, "See you around, Edward. Love you."

"Yeah," I told him, smiling in admiration as he shuffled his way down the aisle. "You too."

"_Ah, sir, times is hard."_

"Tell me about it," I muttered to myself, going back to my one-sided staring contest with the actress.

"_Times is hard,_" the woman sang, holding out the note and looking into the audience. And with the words that I agreed so fully with and the look that met my unwavering gaze, I realized why she bore such a resemblance to my faint memory of my love taking on the same role. Through my astonished blank mind, the lone thought echoed through my ears, while my brain subconsciously planned to track down Mrs.-Lovett-slash-the-object-of-my-searching afterwards.

_Only Bella._

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: **Firstly, if you didn't understand the last part of that, Bella was playing the part of Mrs. Lovett in the play that Edward (and Emmett and Rose) were watching. Um, I'm having some difficulties with Chapter 12, it's not really fitting together the way I want it to, so it might be a few more days until I get it out. I'm going to try my hard to get it out Christmas Eve, but if I don't Merry Christmas (and Happy Holidays!) to everybody! And here's your present:

**Sneak Peek:**_I had always been good at repressing bad memories since I had been a child and Charlie had taken me on fishing trips or forced me to play with Jake's sisters or even the horrible days at school where I was an utter nobody. I had forgotten all about those tortured days of high school and that included the senior summer from hell. Never had I thought of it as a bad thing until now. How could I ever forget how I was on the run from the inescapable? How couldn't I remember why I had moved to Cape Disappointment – and what a disappointment it was – in the first place? How had I forgotten to hide?_

_And now – oh, God – now I had dragged Edward – deep breaths – into this._

See you soon! (Hopefully.)

Laura


	14. Chapter 12: The Ringing Truth

**AN:** I totally remembered the third part of whatever I was going to tell you guys, but I forgot again. I have ADD. Chocolate cake !

**Mini Recap: **_My lips lingered on her skin, every cell of my body unwilling to pull away from her; the desire was too great, too difficult to resist. She sighed, as if feeling exactly what I was, which was most likely the case. "You have more questions," she stated._

"_Yes."_

"_You're not just going to let it go."_

"_Definitely not."_

_Bella pulled away, looking up at me through her thick fringe of midnight black lashes. My own green eyes stared down at her with the same conviction, almost daring her to refuse to answer. In her chocolate eyes, the glint was mirrored with a challenging glare, though her eyes were still deep pools of love. Our silent staring contest continued through the passing minutes, uninterrupted until Junior snuggled between us, giggling once again._

"_Fine," I whispered softly, pressing another kiss to her skin. "Later, then. For now, let's just enjoy the moment. I doubt this will last forever."_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 12 – The Ringing Truth**

**Bella**

The torn parchment burned white-hot in my fingers, the all consuming fear sprouting from the very lines of my finger prints, eating at every available cell in my hands, the flames licking the flesh of my arms. It raged through my veins until my entire body was screaming in silent agony. This was a different burning sensation than the one I felt when Edward's lips had crashed down on mine; this was the fire I feared rather than craved.

_2:00. I spy._

The long-forgotten handwriting etched the lenses of my eyes as they searched the crowd of people to my right, trying to pinpoint the crimson eyes I did not want to see. Down my cheeks was the path the waterfall pouring from my eyes followed when the bloodthirsty gaze locked with my own. His mouth curved into a victorious smile, revealing the blinding white teeth that longed to sink into my neck and suck me dry.

"Hello, again, Bella," he said softly in his smooth, menacing voice, and even though he was halfway across the room, I still heard him crystal clear. "Good to finally see you again. Who's your friend?"

The glint in his bloody eyes created a low growl in my throat. "No," I whispered, my nostrils flaring in anguish. He laughed, throwing his head back in an insane gesture and then he vanished under my death glare.

_Shit._

That last thought and all time took off; ready, set, go. I blinked and already a whole minute had passed. Time waited for absolutely nothing (apparently, neither did vampires), not even goodbyes. One last kiss, one last touch, a few last words, and gone forever was Edward from my sight. How long had it been since I was dancing with him? Ten minutes?

Ten minutes and everything had disappeared.

I had always been good at repressing bad memories since I had been a child and Charlie had taken me on fishing trips or forced me to play with Jake's sisters or even the horrible days at school where I was an utter nobody. I had forgotten all about those tortured days of high school and that included the senior summer from hell. Never had I thought of it as a bad thing until now. How could I ever forget how I was on the run from the inescapable? How couldn't I remember why I had moved to Cape Disappointment – and what a disappointment it was – in the first place? How had I forgotten to hide?

And now – _oh, God _– now I had dragged Edward – _deep breaths_ – into this.

Stupid, _stupid,_ stupid! I banged my head against the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white from the tension as I scolded myself.

_Why did I forget about James?_

The wind was rushing fiercely through my hair as I pushed the pedal of Edw – _his_ beloved Volvo to the floor as the tires ate up the dashed white lines of the road. My eyes were wide and watering with the cool, stinging air of the open window beating the skin of my face, my arms, my legs. My chest ached in the screaming pain of leaving him, my heart no longer beating inside of me, pumping blood to the rest of my body. I was deathly cold and pale, I realized when I took a glance at myself in the rearview mirror.

I despised myself with the worst abhorrence.

How had I brought this upon him? He who I loved with the greatest passion, he whom it would kill me to lose. How had I brought this upon my family? And my friends? Would any of them survive?

The self-inquiries fueled my flight instinct even more and I reached the Cottage in what seemed like a nanosecond. In another, I was throwing every bit of clothing I owned into my rarely used suitcase. One more and a hasty note with handwriting like chicken scrawl was tossed on the bed. The next thing I saw was Ed – him.

_No, please God, no. I don't want to hurt him._

But I could already see I had. And that, in turn, hurt me in the worst way imaginable. The pain emanating from my body racked through my bones and seeped through my shoes, pooling in a puddle on the floor. A thousand dull knives stabbed my vacant heart, puncturing the unusable organ. My stomach curled in sickness at what I had done and what I was doing. The lone look on his face made my face scrunch in agony as I willed the tears to back off.

The world sped up and after the last goodbye, this time added with a declaration of true and utter love, I was speeding away into the distance, speeding away from love, life, and imminent death. Away from the danger I knew I had already inflicted upon them all, trying to draw the danger with me. Again.

.:{o0o}:.

"What happened during your senior summer?" Edward asked quietly after I'd finished explaining the night I'd left him from my perspective. He fiddled with his fingernails, biting his lip and looking up at me with an ache lingering in his emerald eyes. He seemed very dull, as if he was holding back all the emotion as he absorbed the truth I was presenting him with.

I moved even closer to him on the bed so that, even though we were both sitting cross-legged, I was sitting practically on top of him. Absentmindedly, I licked my lips and my hand reached out slowly to grasp one of his, reveling in the warmth between the two. "I was with Charlie," I whispered. "I found out he was a vampire during sophomore year of high sch –"

"Wait," Edward interjected, suddenly remembering something. "Jacob told me you didn't know."

"Well, that's what Jake thought," I responded. He opened his mouth again, but I held up a finger, hushing him as I went on with my story. "I was with Charlie one day, walking in the woods, catching up. He knew a non-vegetarian coven was in town, so he was keeping an extra special watch on the family, just in case. But he must have underestimated them because they found us talking in a clearing. Charlie tried to defend me, but James, the leader, was a tracker and I guess my blood appealed to him. It's his favorite game and I'm the most fun he's had in years."

Edward cringed under my hands at my words, but I ignored it and continued. "Charlie managed to get me out of there, I have no idea how, but he did. He told me to run, to hide, and never stop until I was halfway across the country. I was in the middle of Kentucky when he met up with me again.

"It took a few years to finally find a safe enough place where I could settle down and go to college. James had disappeared by then and Charlie kept traveling the world in hopes of finding and destroying him, but he never had any luck. One of his coven, Laurent, he was called, found his niche in a family up in Alaska. They hid me for a while, nice family. But the other one, James's mate, Victoria," I hesitated, shuddering at the last time I'd seen her. "She was hell-bent on finding me, following me around conspicuously with a disguise." I gulped and then continued with my explanation, watching Edward's reaction carefully. My voice dropped a considerable volume. "Always the same disguise. Spunky seventeen year old. Reminds you a little of Alice. Her pseudonym is always the same: Pela Waters," I whispered.

Edward's first reaction was to turn into a marble statue of precision, which he did. He must have perfected the art of stiffening over the years we had been apart, because he even stopped breathing. I was afraid of that.

"Edward?" I asked timidly, looking up at him through my thick fringe of lashes. I reached up to brush my fingers across the impossibly smooth texture of his cheeks, but as soon as my skin came into contact with his, he immediately pulled away from me. Running a hand continuously through his bronze locks, he paced back and forth frantically, eyes wide and staring at the ground.

"She – I . . . she," he spluttered, his face turning red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"I know what happened in Paris, Edward," I said, scooting to the edge of the bed. My voice shook with an underlying amount of fear. My fingers stretched out to graze his arm as he passed, but he flinched away from me. "I know," I repeated somberly.

"How? Why did she –" he breathed frustrated, never halting in his pacing.

"I heard through a series of spies and close friends," I dismissed evasively. "But that's not important. _The point is_ that they found you; they know you're connected to me in some way or another and they know your scent. James just wanted to steal some of your clothes, but Victoria had to be the drama queen and do it her way."

"But –"

"But that's beside the point," I continued, stopping Edward and gripping his arms in a strong vice. My eyes bore into his, trying to make him understand, trying to make him see reason. "They have your scent. Meaning that they will go to any length to make sure you're _dead._"

"Just because I'm associated with you?" he asked mystified. I nodded solemnly. "But that's . . . ridiculous. They won't kill me."

"Oh, really, Edward?" I stated each syllable vindictively, my voice rising into a sarcastic yell. "No, they won't kill you. Why do they even care, huh? No one's going to die!"

"Bella," Edward whispered softly, trailing his large fingers down my flaming skin from the right temple.

"They won't kill you?" I asked skeptically, my voice dropping into a deathly calmness. "Look what happened to Andrew."

"What are you–"

"Andrew didn't die in a car crash, Edward," I sneered, swatting his hand away, my voice again bellowing. "_They_ killed him. They killed him because of _me_! Because he was _my_ brother and he was trying to help _me._ Didn't you ever wonder why no body was found? Hmm? Don't you see why I ran away? _I didn't want _anyone_ to get hurt_!Not over me."

While Edward stared at me, perfectly perplexed, my own words sunk into my mind. I knew that now Edward was here, I would have to leave again. Charlie and Jake would have to take Edward and Junior. And they would run. I knew, in the pits of my stomach, that I would have to do what I'd been meaning to for the past few years. I would surrender. I would give myself up. And hope against hope that it would be enough for James.

"Don't leave, Bella," Edward pleaded, as if reading my thoughts, begging me on one knee to stay with him. "Please," he said hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Don't leave me. Not again."

"I have to," I whispered, my voice softening as I sat down closer to him, bringing his hands once again into mine. "I can't bear to see you guys hurt. That would be so much worse than dying."

"Bella," he sighed, wrapping his arms around me protectively, though what he was trying to shield me from was impossible to stop.

"Both James and the Volturi want me dead or otherwise undead," I said unanimated, stroking his disheveled hair as he buried his nose in the crook of my neck. "Either way, my heart will stop beating no matter who catches me first."

"Don't say that," he breathed tenderly, his lips moving against my skin. I sighed in response.

My sigh was an enumerating answer. It encompassed the defeat of trying to convince Edward to see the future otherwise than he imagined, than I dreamed. It included my realization that this bliss I had been living in for the past few stolen days with Edward wouldn't last. The gentle exhale reminded me of what I would face in the coming days and weeks and months, if I even lived that long. It told me to savor these last moments so I could look back on them as my heart pumped its last beats.

Edward lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye with an air of determination. "I'm _not _leaving you," he stated surely and calmly. "No matter _what_ you say."

As I opened my mouth to protest, his lips came crashing down on mine, no hesitation in knocking me to the ground. His large hands, one on my waist and one on my neck, massaged the skin beneath them, melting my flesh into putty. As his tongue moved urgently against mine and his lips drew red-hot gasps from my mouth, I fisted my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. I felt every miniscule detail of his body pressed right into mine, melting us into one.

I felt every impossible possibility.

The dreams and hopes and wishes formed the one unattainable future looming before my closed eyes as Edward kissed me senseless – trying, no doubt, to make me forget what I was fighting against . . . and succeeding, I might add – and taunted me to no end. It was a future filled with Junior and his siblings, _our kids_ (I noticed the plural painfully), Edward and I getting married, our families, a house with a white picket fence and blue shutters, the whole nine yards. I saw Carlisle handing me off to Edward in a flowing white dress while Charlie stood watching in the background and I saw myself squeezing Edward's hand as I gave birth to a daughter. My closed eyes showed me Renee and Esme holding our babies and Alice, Rose, and my sister dragging me shopping, all of us with pregnant bellies. The pictures of Emmett and Jasper joking around and Edward playing the piano and Carlisle playing doctor with his grandkids all haunted me, holding each just out of my grasp.

The morning sun shone down on us as we each panted for air, our chests heaving in wonderful synchronization. Edward rested his warm forehead against mine, holding himself off of me with his arms as his hands fiddled with my fingers. Despite our current predicament, we both broke out in shattering smiles, splitting our face in two. The shocking electricity flowed between us relentlessly, sparks and embers and sparks. His longing green glimmering eyes stared down into mine, searching my mind and heart and soul.

"Bella," he sighed, and his sigh was full of joy. His breath washed over me with the scent revolving around him and my brain lost all coherency. His lithe fingers slid something smooth and cold over mine, twisting it into place. His smile grew ever wider.

I gasped in realization.

"Marry me."

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: **Yeah. So this was a little late, but I was baking massive amounts of cookies Christmas Eve that would rival the Keebler Elves. I don't know when exactly the next chapter will be out, because, frankly, my imagination hasn't told me what happens next. Euuh, what else? How about you guys motivate Mar Mar to actually write her story, because she wants to change it again. Yes, again. Oh, and I don't think this will be done by the time break is over, but I'm really going to try my hardest. HA! I totally remember now. A photo album has been made for this story and is linked on my page. There's a few pictures of dresses (I didn't go crazy this time around) and some of Moose and Mar Mar and me and Marissa's crazy chapter outlines. It's worth a look.

THANKS !

Laura


	15. Chapter 13: On The Road Again

**AN:** Mid-terms. Continuous study for mid-terms was what kept me from this. But that's no excuse. Sorry. Marissa should've slapped me by now.

**Mini Recap: **_The morning sun shone down on us as we each panted for air, our chests heaving in wonderful synchronization. Edward rested his warm forehead against mine, holding himself off of me with his arms as his hands fiddled with my fingers. Despite our current predicament, we both broke out in shattering smiles, splitting our face in two. The shocking electricity flowed between us relentlessly, sparks and embers and sparks. His longing green glimmering eyes stared down into mine, searching my mind and heart and soul. _

_"Bella," he sighed, and his sigh was full of joy. His breath washed over me with the scent revolving around him and my brain lost all coherency. His lithe fingers slid something smooth and cold over mine, twisting it into place. His smile grew ever wider._

_I gasped in realization._

"_Marry me."_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 13 – On The Road Again**

**Edward**

Asking Bella to marry me was both the best and worst decision I've ever made in my life.

And that conclusion didn't only stem from the fact that as soon as the words slipped out of my mouth did she run wide-eyed into the bathroom, locked the door, and emptied the contents of her stomach into the previously clean hotel toilet.

Maybe it was karma coming to bite me in the ass.

Either way, I couldn't regret my quasi-decision to ask her for her hand, for her to be mine in the realest form of forever, at least to me. No, I didn't regret it, though I hadn't made the conscious thought in the first place to even ask her. Except for, well, my determination to make her mine. But that was before I was reunited with her, before I even thought I had the chance to find her again. Hell, before she even ran away in the first place.

I sighed, trying to refrain from banging my head on the door and instead opted for my hand. "Bella?" I called between the stomach-clenching sounds of retching. "You okay?"

A few minutes passed without answer, during which I heard the distinct sounds of the flushing toilet, running water, and a toothbrush. Finally, after what felt like the forever I subconsciously imagined _without _Bella, she opened the door, the look painted on her face seeming as if absolutely nothing had happened.

"Bella!" I exclaimed, instantly jumping on her from anxiety. "Are you okay? I mean, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean – I just . . . I dunno what I was thinking, I'm sorry. Do you feel okay? Do you need me to take you somewhere? A doctor? Are you sick? I'm sorry – I shouldn't have . . . what was I thinking? Bella, please forgive –"

She laid a hand on my arm, effectively silencing me with a quick peck, and smiled slightly. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Wasn't your fault. I'll be back in two minutes."

"I –" I began, but she was gone and out the door in a few bewildered moments. I growled, pacing once again the length of the tiny hallway, running a hand through my hair. Between that and worrying so much, I was going to go prematurely bald and gray. Thanks to Bella. "Ugh," I sighed, strolling into the kitchen with an unknown weight clouding my mind.

With all that I was worrying about, it took me a fair few minutes to realize that I was not alone. Which in itself was a difficult feat, because Jacob was talking quite loudly to himself with his hands covering his ears. If I weren't so flustered, I would have laughed and attempted to make a lame joke. And, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was spending way too much time with Marissa.

"Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl! How charming sweet you sing! O let us be married! Too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?'" he mumbled under his breath in a falsetto voice, staring as if his life depended on it at the wooden tabletop, his hands clasped desperately on either side of his large head.

"Um, Jake?" I asked uncertainly, my eyebrows furrowing, fearing somewhat for the werewolf's sanity. Which I wasn't sure even existed in the first place, seeing as he was a mythical creature.

"Oh, hey, Edward," he said, dropping the high tone, looking up brightly, never moving his hands. "Didn't see you there. What's up?"

"Er . . . what the hell are you doing?"

"Oh," Jacob repeated, somewhat blushing as he pulled his hands away from his ears. "Um, well . . . I was walking around the other day and saw this girl doing that exact same thing, so I asked her about it. If you put your hands over your ears and talk, it sounds really cool."

I just stared at him. Definitely Marissa.

"Yeah, I thought it was stupid, too," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Fortunately, he was saved, Bella rushing back in the door with a bag from the local drugstore in her hands. I stood up, grinning at her as she kicked her shoes off – which were in serious danger of hitting someone in the head – and ran past me, yelling, "Hold on, I really gotta pee."

Sitting back down, somewhat confused, I asked Jake, "Junior with Charlie?"

"Yeah," he answered, fidgeting with his fingers.

The silence that followed was long and over-stretched. Though my mind was trying to sort the past half hour out, it seemed oddly empty, ominous, as if something inevitable was lurking near. I shook the thought from my head, staring intently at the off-white wall of the kitchen. Instead, I focused my gaze on Jacob. He seemed to be anxious about something as he drew mindless patterns on the grain of the wood. It made my anxiety grow to new heights, putting me on guard. _What was he thinking about?_

Just as I opened my mouth to voice my thoughts, a loud clattering came from the direction of the hallway, Moose's hissing, a quick shriek, and a thunderous, "SHIT!"

"Bella," I muttered as I dashed to the bathroom, knocking the chair over and a few of my son's toys in the process. Jake was on my heels, his eyes wide, and he almost crushed Moose in his haste. Reaching the bathroom, I flung the door open, silently thanking God that it was unlocked. The door banged on the wall and my heart dropped to my feet as the scene unfolded before me.

The contents of the medicine cabinet was spilled in hap hazard piles over the tiled floor on which Bella was sitting, cursing quietly under her breath. She was curled in the fetal position, looking worn, clutching a small object in her hand. Her scrunched eyes flung open as I stepped warily towards her.

"Bella?" I repeated in a hoarse whisper. I dropped to my knees beside her. "What is it?"

Her eyes finally flickered up to mine, the endless chocolate filled with watery tears. Her face was ashen, even more so than usual. She breathed in fast gulps of air as she stared at me. Slowly, she reached out with her hand, still grasping tightly to whatever she held. I reached my own hand forward, careful not to break eye contact with her and felt her hand relax as soon as my skin touched her own. Gradually, her grip loosened and soon the stick she had was in my hand instead.

A tiny pink plus sign met my eyes as they wavered down. _Pregnant._

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

I paced back and forth between the row of identical seats and the large window that took up the entire wall, trying to sort out my emotions. Was I happy that Bella was going to have another one of my children? Was I angry? Should I be? Would everything, in the end of this humongous mess, be all right? Would Bella finally agree to marry me?

_And where the hell was Charlie?_

"Edward, darling," Bella whispered, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Please calm down. Come and sit with me. Charlie will be here soon and we'll figure everything out."

I complied easily, but something about the way she said the last part told me she didn't believe herself. She dragged me back to the seat where Jake was sitting, playing with Junior. The errant thought that he would make a wonderful father flew through my mind. Poor Elza, she must be missing him.

Bella pulled me down, briefly stopping to plant a kiss on her son's head, and snuggled up to me. My arms wrapped around her of their own accord, but my eyes never met hers as they wandered around the half-deserted airport.

"Relax," she whispered, tracing the contours of my tensed forearm.

"How?" I replied lifelessly. "How can you stand this? Constantly flying from place to place around the globe. I thought you hated planes. Why do we have to go anywhere? Why can't we just stay here?"

"I was never running from you, Edward," said Bella as she planted light kisses on my hand. "I was – and still am – running from James. It's absolutely necessary. We have to continuously move so he can't track my scent as well as he possibly could under normal circumstances. He's probably already on his way to Liverpool. And I do hate planes," she added as an afterthought. "But I just have to adjust."

"Flight 721 is boarding now. Would all passengers please report to the gate to board," the flight attendant announced over the loud speaker. My muscles tensed again as I looked again for Charlie.

"Come on," Bella murmured in my ear, pulling me up.

Though I was always the personification of melted butter when it came to her, I resisted as best I could. "But, where –"

"He's right behind us."

And, indeed, as we turned around to collect our pile of carry-on luggage, Charlie was standing next to Jake, with Junior in his arms, as if he'd been there the whole time. Grumbling as I picked up mine and Bella's luggage, I laced my fingers with Bella's and took our place in line to board.

Truly, I despised airports.

It seemed like days had passed, the sun rising and setting multiple times, before we were actually in the air, flying towards . . . wherever we were going.

"Bella?" I asked softly, voicing my thoughts as I ran a hand through her velvet hair. She lifted her head off of my shoulder slightly, angling her neck so she could look at me. "Where are we going?"

"Mmm," she mused, her brow crinkling. "I think we're going back to America. Somewhere. Dad?"

"Pennsylvania," Charlie retorted shortly, not turning his head from the window. He was, or so he said, keeping lookout, though I couldn't imagine how he could see from how far up we were in the air. Then again, I didn't have vampire vision. Jake slept loudly in the seat next to him, oblivious to all else. Jacob conked out as soon as we were seated. Apparently, werewolves need _a lot_ of extra Z's.

"Pennsylvania," Bella repeated as an unnecessary confirmation, closing her eyes in content as I stroked her hair from crown to waist once again. Junior slept soundly in her arms between us, a combination of his gentle snoring and my tender caresses lulling Bella slowly but surely into unconsciousness.

Over Bella's head, I watched through the window Europe slowly disappearing below us. I hadn't even said goodbye to Maggie and Marissa, but we were in such a rush. As the continent inched its way out of eyesight, an empty feeling engulfed me. I had nowhere to go now, because I had caught what I was chasing. Now I would follow Bella anywhere. But what bugged me was that we weren't going _home._ Home, where we should be, with our family and friends. Home in Cape Disappointment. Home in Bluebell Cottage. _Home._

But the point occurred to me that wherever Bella was, wherever she and my son might be, was home.

I missed my family.

"Bella?" I asked again hesitantly. "W-would it be okay, if I, um, call my mom? I haven't talked to her in ages and I think it might put her at ease to know I'm safe and – and alive."

"Of course," she answered sleepily. "Tell them I said" – she stifled a yawn – "hi."

But I never really got to talk to my mother. I had my cell phone in hand and five of the seven numbers punched in when Bella interrupted me.

"What's this?"

The last time I had seen any of the items Bella held in her hand seemed like lifetimes ago, though it was barely a year. My mind had subconsciously blocked them from my memory in my haste to find my love. The books and jewelry were a sad reminder of my last run-in with Bella's own sister.

"These," she said absently, though in awe, "were Andrew's. How – how did you . . .?"

"You – your sister said that they were left to us in his . . . in Andrew's will. She found me in Peru and gave them to me. It's how I found you in Paris," I responded dully as I focused on each individual object as they passed through Bella's hands. I nodded at the thin black address book when she looked at me in question. "I don't know how he knew," I continued.

She faltered, almost dropping the book. "He was," her voice wavered, "kind of collecting information for me. For us, really. He was really good with cracking codes . . . and he found a way to track who James was going to pursue next. All his victims were somehow related to me. And . . . and then, he – he –" She gulped and couldn't continue as she leafed idly through her old book.

"But what does Paris have to do with the Volturi?" My voice was hoarse as I leaned towards her.

"It's the only place I'm semi-safe from them. I don't know why, but that's –"

Her voice cut off, her hands nimbly fingering the page she flipped to. Bending closer, I looked over her shoulder to see what she was staring so openly frightened at.

Edward Cullen  
Fort Canby Park Road  
Bluebell Cottage Apartment 3B  
Cape Disappointment, WA

And there, next to my entry written so delicately in Bella's handwriting, was the scribbled words _PRIME TARGET_.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: IMPORTANT NOTE!** _PLEASE READ! _I'll try to make this as short as possible.

Okay, so I know I've been slacking off majorly in my updates, especially since I put LSDN on hiatus. But, for the New Year, I've decided to work this all out. First of all, I told you guys that I'm going to be writing a novel in my English class. _I will be devoting most of my time to that._ But that _does not _mean that I will be abandoning any of my fanfiction. Not while I have readers who actually read my story, because you guys are VERY important to me. Without you guys, this story wouldn't exist. But back to the point. I have a few more story ideas whistling and waltzing around in the back of my head. I have decided that along with LITP, LSDN, my novel project, and this new story, that I will be posting one chapter a week. Meaning only _one_ chapter from _one _of my stories. I want to please everyone, but that's just not going to happen. I have a very busy schedule, what with work, school, play practice, and my actual life, I barely have time to squeeze this in here. I'm constantly working on my novel, I have work three times a week (only a part-time job), I will have play practice three times a week, I have school and loads of work to do every week, I put aside time for my friends every weekend. I'm trying to organize everything so that I will have time to write one chapter a week, not including whatever work I do on my novel, which I will post on FictonPress, along with my other story (my penname's Layla Marie Cosgro). So, I'm giving you guys exclusive permission to yell at me if I miss posting once a week. And when I say once a week, I do not mean every week on the same day at the exact same time. I'm not THAT coordinated. And don't worry about me slacking, because I have Marissa to smack me for that.

I hope that you all will support me on this and not get mad. I'm really grateful to each and every one of you. Thanks a trillion.

Laura


	16. Chapter 14: Forfeit

**AN: **Update of the week ! I dunno if I like it or not. I usually don't do things like flashbacks (like at the end of this chapter), but I was in the mood for reminiscing. Hope you like it. Enjoy !

**Mini Recap:** _Her voice cut off, her hands nimbly fingering the page she flipped to. Bending closer, I looked over her shoulder to see what she was staring so openly frightened at. _

_Edward Cullen  
Fort Canby Park Road  
Bluebell Cottage Apartment 3B  
Cape Disappointment, WA_

_And there, next to my entry written so delicately in Bella's handwriting, was the scribbled words PRIME TARGET._

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**Chapter 14 – Forfeit**

**Edward**

I was stuck in a frenzy of disbelieving shock, my detached arms holding Junior in one hand and Moose's cage in the other, while Charlie and Jake had been juggling the rest of our luggage – which was now in a disheveled pile on the floor – as they stood next to me, recovering from the astonishment quicker than I had, compliments of being superhuman, of course. I was just goddamn thankful that I hadn't dropped either of the beloved beings in my arms from lack of alertness.

This repeated history was slightly tainted with more betrayal and tapered with less depression than the last time. Not as much denial clouded my mind as I stood alone with my son and my cat, staring off into the direction of which my other three companions allegedly disappeared.

She was gone. Again.

After she had laid her brown eyes on the words written in that despicable black book, she had remained oddly quiet and isolated for the rest of the flight. No doubt that she trusted her deceased brother's judgment faultlessly, her worst fears becoming a very possible, very near future reality. But my life was nothing compared to hers; how could she value that above herself when she was so much more important? Why had she sacrificed herself to the fate that had been created for her with the very first step she took into the mythical world?

Her vampire father and future-werewolf-brother-in-law (if any of us even survived that far into the future) left me, the poor helpless human, without another backwards glance, let alone any words of departure. I knew that if they had time, they all would have exclusively ordered me to stay behind and keep Junior safe, which I knew I had to do anyways. But technically, they _didn't_ particularly give me any necessary instructions that I would have ignored at any rate, so I was practically free to do whatever I wanted. Meaning, in this case, to chase after my beloved Bella as I had been for the past year. The ritual seemed so familiar to me now that I could have done it in my sleep. She runs, I pursue.

Unlike last time, I knew exactly what she was running from – or, rather, running _to_. But like last time, whether I understood the reason or not, it completely broke my heart.

We didn't fly to Pennsylvania to hide, or at least to hide Bella, because theoretically, _I_ was supposed to be hiding with Junior and Moose. Instead, we came here specifically – out in the middle of nowhere, may I add – for Bella to fulfill what she had been planning since we had been reunited. Forfeit her own life to save both Junior's and mine.

She came here to meet James. And her death.

My emotions were surprising under control as I took a few deep breaths, trying to perceive the situation. I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to conjure up the insane hope that when they reopened, she would be standing by my side again. Of course, that was an impossibility, as my eyes soon reiterated to me blatantly. I sighed calmly, sat down in one of the numerous rows of seats next to the gate we recently emerged from, and held my last lifeline to my chest protectively.

As I cuddled Junior to me, I let Moose out of his cage as I thought through various scenarios of how I was going to find her. Thankfully, Junior was out like a log and unlikely to wake up anytime soon, so at least he was still peacefully unaware of his mother's absence. Resting my cheek on top of his red-brown curls – mostly chocolate now, like Bella's – I gazed pensively at the feline sitting in the chair next to mine, his vibrant green eyes meeting my own knowingly.

I snorted dully. "Don't tell me you actually know where to go," I mumbled tiredly to Moose, ridiculously taking up the long-gone habit of talking to animals.

The cat's eyes glinted, as his mouth seemed to smirk. "Meow."

I took another deep breath as I closed my eyes and resigned myself to lunacy. "I can't believe I'm actually going to believe you," I grumbled, hoping idly that I wasn't turning into some kind of Dr. Dolittle.

_Just like old times._

.:o0o:.

Luck must have been immensely on my side today, because the coincidence that the first babysitter I found was one of Marissa's closest friends was truly miraculous. I could tell this girl – with brown hair and brown eyes that haunted me again – had been conversing regularly with Maggie's niece because the glint in her eye was so similar to Mar Mar's that it was slightly discerning. I was just glad that I had found safe hands to put my son in the care of.

"Don't worry, Edward," she had told me as she ruffled Junior's hair. "He'll be perfectly safe with me. I'm much more reliable than Marissa, if I do say so myself. You just concentrate on finding that trophy wife of yours. Again."

Again. That last word had my nose crinkling in disgust as I drove away in the fastest rental car I could find, Moose in the seat at my side. How had I managed to lose her _again_?

I still couldn't comprehend how I was going to find her. Though I trusted my cat, however strange and delusional that may sound, I doubted his ability to guide me in the right direction. My crowded mind was just contemplating that very fact when he suddenly leaped onto the dashboard, hissing as he glared to the left.

Staring perplexed at him, I slowed down as we came to an intersection. Moose pounced on the steering wheel, trying to make me turn. As the light turned green, I complied, turning to the left, but stated aloud, "It's a dead end," pointing to the _No Outlet_ sign.

Moose retreated to the dash, curling in front of the windshield with his swaying tail hanging off the glove box. We drove for miles and as we passed great fields of corn and small clusters of houses, I began to hope that this wasn't a _dead end_.

The last house we saw was about two and a half miles back, where the rode suddenly turned to raw dirt, and there still was no end in sight. The rolling hills were covered in meadows of endless hay and forests of infinite trees. Round corner after corner, knoll and knoll, and running out of gas, I noticed impatiently. Perhaps this wasn't a wonderful idea. I shot a sideways glare at Moose, but he was still lying in the same place, staring straight ahead.

_That's what you get for listening to him,_ I berated myself angrily.

Was this simply a bad dream, manifested out of my terror of losing Bella? Would I wake up as I reached the end of the road, drifting into consciousness again, to find Bella resting peacefully in my arms? Was all that I had been through the past two years merely one long continuous hallucination?

It seemed possible. I had wondered about it many lonely times before, as I sat in an empty hotel room, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Bella was gone. Maybe that was why I wasn't completely losing it this time around. If this was actually reality, that is. What if I woke up and found myself on the plane I took to Cape Disappointment in the first place, before I ever met Bella? What if none of this really existed? What if life is just a limitless journey of delusions, each one blending into the next, dreams mixing with the real world, and you could never tell the difference between the two, not knowing which was the truth?

What really scared me into silence was the probability of Bella's demise. Was this the last adventure we would take? Would I find her dead body at the end of this path? I knew, in my heart, that I would suffer a billion times greater than I had initially. And I knew that had I not other responsibilities – like the fact that I would _never_ allow Junior to grow up without at least one of his parents – I would avenge her death with my own. But I would never survive the torture life would put me through, day by day as I had only my son to help me through it all. I knew my family would be there, too, but they weren't a part of her like Junior was. Her blood didn't run through their veins.

My eyes unfocused as the road of fate vanished under these tires that took me closer and closer to so many different possibilities. Memories of Bella's and my time together invaded the ancient recesses of my mind. How I missed those moments of effortless affection.

.:.

"_Okay, well, thanks for . . ." I trailed off._

"_Knocking you over?" she supplied, and added a sarcastically, "Anytime."_

.:.

"_Fall, er, up again, Bella?" I inquired._

"_Ha, ha, Edward," she replied, "And, as a matter of fact, I did."_

.:.

"_Do – do you think you could play for me sometime?" Bella asked timidly, fiddling with her fingers again._

"_Anything for you," I said before I could stop myself._

.:.

"_I would think it's my duty as a knight in shining armor to defend the beautiful lady," I said, smirking._

"_That was cheesy and you know it."_

.:.

"_Aren't you supposed to wait until we're married to carry me across the threshold?" she asked sarcastically._

"_I guess," I answered after dropping the envelopes on the counter. "Will you marry me then, Izzy?"_

.:.

"_You sound as if you're offering a lifetime of service in my debt, Edward."_

"_If that's what it takes, so be it."_

.:.

"_Did you feed the cat, Mr. Cullen?" she scolded._

_I laughed heartily, picking up Bella in my arms and carried her downstairs to my apartment._

"_Now there's an adventure I'm going to need some help with."_

.:.

"_Wow," Bella said sarcastically and snorted again. "Good job, Edward. You can count."_

"_I do have a diploma, thank you very much."_

"_From what? Kindergarten?"_

.:.

"_I do," Bella whispered to me._

"_And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the movie-priest asked._

"_I do." The words slipped out of my mouth without my brain forming a coherent thought to say them._

.:.

"_Why?" I asked. "You look –"_

"_Horrible," she whimpered._

"_I was thinking something more along the lines of dazzling," I told Bella with a grin._

.:.

"_I don't want you to catch a cold or anything," I argued, rubbing my hands up and down her shoulders._

"_I'm not nearly as fragile as you seem to think I am."_

"_Then, excuse me for caring for your well-being."_

.:.

"_Oops," I said, while stifling a yawn. She giggled again. Must still be in that morning state._

"_Sleep well?" she asked as if she was hiding something._

"_Hmm," I said, pretending to ponder. "I fell asleep with a beautiful girl by my side, dreamt of said amazing girl all night, and woke up to find the same stunning girl in my arms. I must have slept terribly." I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in the crook of her neck._

.:.

"_I was just going out to meet Elza for lunch," Bella interrupted, "Locked the door and turned around and ran into a very hard brick wall."_

"_Which you knocked down, thank you very much," I shot back at her._

"_Brick walls aren't supposed to fall down," she replied._

"_Unless they're hit with a tornado, like that one obviously was."_

.:.

"_But it's my apartment," I pouted._

"_Mine, too," Bella retorted._

_I grinned again. "Can't argue with that."_

.:.

"_I think you have something on your face, m'dear," I told her mischievously._

"_What's that?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow._

_Quickly, instead of popping my finger in my mouth to lick off the batter, I slid my finger down her face, from her temple to her chin, leaving a trail of chocolate. "Just a bit of chocolate brownie mix," I answered with an uneven smile._

_She gritted her teeth. "This. Means. War."_

.:.

"_What are you thinking about, Bella?"_

"_He would be so handsome," she said absentmindedly._

"_Who?" I repeated._

"_Our baby boy," she whispered. My answering smile matched hers, blindingly bright. The way she said those words sent a very welcome shiver down my spine. Our baby boy . . ._

.:.

"_Oh, really?" she asked skeptically. She thought about what I said for a second. "So if you could have anything in the world, you'd just want my cookies?"_

"_Yep," I replied, popping the 'p', and smiling again._

_She put her hand over her heart drastically. "And all this time you were just using me for my culinary skills. I thought we were friends, Edward," she spouted in a mocking pained voice._

_Chuckling, I pulled her to my side, making sure the platter of cream puffs didn't fall off the bed. Squeezing her tight with both arms, I said, "Dang it. You figured me out."_

"_I'm hurt, Mr. C," she said in the same tone through her shaking voice as I kissed her forehead, the corners of my lips turned upward._

"_Do you want me to kiss it and make it all better?" I asked against her skin, sending another shiver through her body._

"_Sure, Mom," Bella whispered sarcastically as I pressed my lips to the top of her head again and again._

.:.

_I smirked. "Uncle Eddie."_

_He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Only if you're going to be Aunt Izzy," he replied._

"_With pleasure, hubby."_

.:.

"_Well," she started, hesitantly, looking back down at our hands and blushing more. "I guess, um, you could introduce me as your girlfriend, if you want," she mumbled in a rush, letting out a big breath of air as she bit her lip lightly._

_Smiling my lopsided smile, I used my free hand to lift her chin up to look at me. "Of course that's what I want."_

.:.

"_Mmm," Bella moaned, her eyes still shut tight as she stretched her thin arms, only to settle back into the same position moments later. I was thoroughly paralyzed. A bright pink tongue licked the alluring lips before she smiled again, cautiously opening her eyes. The coffee-colored orbs swiveled up to meet mine, deepening into a bottomless abyss of warm chocolate. Her smile widened, revealing her shiny white teeth. "Morning, Mr. C," she whispered seductively._

_My heart beat loud and uneven, threatening to break out of my skin; I was positive she could hear it. "W – wonderful morning, love," I breathed._

.:.

Tears watered my eyes, each significant _I love you_ resting on my heavy heart. If she was gone . . . but I couldn't let myself finish that thought. I would find her again. I _would._

And now, here I was, at the end of the Earth – which was really in the middle of Pennsylvania – searching once again for Bella. Fate and destiny were cruelly trying to tear us apart, time and time again, but that's not how love works. Love makes anything possible. I was relying on that.

The dead end turned out to be an old, run-down dairy farm. The barn had partially collapsed, the fences surrounding the pastures were broken, and the house was quickly deteriorating; it was obvious that no living person had been here in a few decades. _Living_ being the keyword. And parked in the yard were two cars I recognized as being rentals from the airport.

I stared at Moose in incredulity as his eyes smiled lazily back at me. Blinking, my gaze shifted back to the cars and slid over the house and barn. There was only one way to find out if Bella was here.

Stepping out of the car, I ran a shaking hand through my hair nervously as I looked up into the looming façade of the decrepit house. That was my first instinct. Warily, I walked up the porch steps, taking each step carefully, as if every plank of wood would give out beneath my feet. My hand paused on the doorknob, feeling its rough exterior in my palm. I couldn't waste time. Taking one last breath of fresh air, I threw the door open and barged inside.

It was empty, as I had expected. Any murderer wouldn't make it that easy. My only option now was to search the house. Which is exactly what I did.

As I cautiously scoured the house for any sign of Bella, I couldn't help but admire the architecture of it. The very thought reminded me of my mother, who took an ardent fondness to restoring old homes. And that thought in turn, reminded me of the family I belonged to across the country.

As I had many times previously, I wondered if I would ever return to them with my own small family. I imagined the look on my parents' faces when they saw my son; the happy squeals of Alice, Rose, and Elza as they rushed forward to embrace Bella in a bone-crushing hug; the pat on my back from Emmett, a knowing look on his face, and Jasper's kind eyes as he welcomed us back. How happy would Renee be to see her daughter and I happy married at last? How much would we all be crying as our family reunited once more?

It was these things I focused on as I kept up my relentless search, trying not to think that for these things to come to pass, I would need to rescue Bella first. And I couldn't dwell on the weighing odds of that happening or not.

I was admiring the upstairs detailed trimming when I heard the glass shattering shriek emitted from somewhere in the vicinity of what I assumed to be the antique barn. Spinning on my heel, I dashed down the hallway to a window I knew overlooked the pastures.

This much I knew: the scream was hers.

"Bella?" I whispered, staring down through the faded panes, trying to make out familiar shapes.

"Well, well, well," a voice said from behind me, accompanied by hissing, that sent unwelcome shivers through my frame. "Look what the cat brought in. Good to see you again, Edward."

~ .:{o0o}:. ~

**AN: **Okay, a few announcements that I'll make short and sweet.

First of all, check out my **new story**, _Her Neverlasting Unreality,_ on Fiction Press. (My name's Layla Marie Cosgro.)

Also, I _posted the preface_ of my **novel** (Death By Heart). The title is most likely to change soon. It can be found on Fiction Press as well.

I have recently started a **Myspace** pertaining to all my stories, where you can find updates (_like when I'll post new chapters, new ideas and stories, suggestions, etc_) and the pictures that go with my stories. So go check it out and add me as a friend ! (The **link** can be found on my _profile_, at the bottom.)

I'm going to update _Le Sort De Neige_ next (cue cheering), but I'm having a bit of writer's block (cue groaning).

I think that's all for now. Love you all,

Laura


	17. Chapter 15: End Of The Earth

**AN: **I'm too ashamed to say anything.

**Mini Recap: **_I was admiring the upstairs detailed trimming when I heard the glass shattering shriek emitted from somewhere in the vicinity of what I assumed to be the antique barn. Spinning on my heel, I dashed down the hallway to a window I knew overlooked the pastures. _

_This much I knew: the scream was hers._

_"Bella?" I whispered, staring down through the faded panes, trying to make out familiar shapes._

_"Well, well, well," a voice said from behind me, accompanied by hissing, that sent unwelcome shivers through my frame. "Look what the cat brought in. Good to see you again, Edward."_

**Summary: **AU. Canon Pairings. Sequel to Little Miss Pipedream. He always believed that he would do anything for his angel. But then reality takes the phrase, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth for her," literally and he is thrown head first into a worldwide search for the love of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I, unfortunately, do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. I also do not own the Wombats, or their song, Lost In The Post.

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**Chapter 15 – End Of The Earth**

**Edward**

The flame of red was so different from the last I had seen the woman's hair, which was currently sprawled at her barren feet in an Easter-y purple clump. There was –thankfully – no tutu this time, though her nomadic clothes looked to have seen better days than the present. A satisfied smirk was set on her face, a glimmer of victory in her eyes. She held a fighting cat in her marble arms, but no matter how much force the feline exerted from his claws, they left no scratch upon the woman's face.

The former Pela Waters standing before me created enraged pangs in my chest that made me want to lung at the vampire, though I knew that would not end agreeably in my favor.

"_Victoria_," I snarled through my growling lips, my eyes flashing in severe hatred.

She giggled mirthlessly. "Ah, so you know," she said, her lips curving as she stroked the relentless Moose. "But I should have known your pathetic little girlfriend would have informed you of our past by now. She's been such a sweetheart, readily complying with our demands. And now that she's dragged you here, too, it just makes it all the more better."

Victoria paced around me, eying me up, almost as if approving of me, her eyes never leaving my face as she spit the words emotionlessly at me. Her lilting, high-pitched voice rung in my ears as she taunted me and I scrunched my eyes shut, thinking of Bella.

"Such a shame," she continued, finally ripping her gaze from me and looking down at Moose as she petted him. "Shame that you couldn't get here in time to witness her own suicidal death." Her eyes darted back to mine, which had lividly flown open. "She knew what she was facing, and I admire her for her bravery. Pity James had to drink her dry. Such a waste," she hissed.

"She's still alive," I whispered to myself, sucking in a breath as I closed my eyes again, conjuring her face to memory.

Victoria clucked her tongue. "Wishful thinking never got anyone very far."

"You're lying."

"I may be and I may not be," she replied evasively. "But I wouldn't count on it."

I glued my eyes open, staring into the wide emerald eyes of my cat. He'd stopped struggling, meowing quietly to get my attention. My glance darted around the hall, to the stairs, the window opposite, and the doors before finally returning to the vampire looking lovingly down at Moose. She smiled wryly and starting pacing again.

It was stupid, really. And mostly on Moose's part for the idea, but also on mine for complying. But I had to admit, if I had never listened to him in the first place, I wouldn't be here; instead, I be wallowing away slowly and surely into worthless ash and I wouldn't trade that for anything. Even given what I've been through.

So with thoughts of Bella fresh in my mind, I forced my body backwards when Victoria turned to gaze down at the cat. Of course she heard me and hissed silently in my direction. Thank god she wasn't psychic.

My heart was pounding too loud to hear the noiseless creature stalking me and my breathing was too heavy. Adrenaline pulsed vigorously through my veins. I felt positively heroic and unquestionably badass; I didn't even feel the shards of glass embedded in my skin as I jumped through the window or the rush of air as I plummeted to the grassy ground. In fact, I felt nothing at all.

Save for the ice-cold hand that had caught the tail of my coat.

Victoria clucked her tongue again. "Not nearly so cooperative as your little girlfriend, now are you? Are you a coward, too scared to face your death like Isabella so easily submitted to?"

I spluttered as I struggled to heave a breath through my mouth. My lank limbs flailed about in the air and my head spun uncontrollably. I faintly caught an orange speck darting across through the green lawn out of the corner of my eye. "Please, God . . ." I whispered to the sky, squeezing my eyes shut. "Let her be safe."

Victoria's laugh teetered in my ears again, and it seemed to be endless, the annoying sound both baby-like and evil. Thinking that I would probably die listening to her laughing as she choked me with my own collar, the insane hum instantly died away. She crouched lower as if she were a cat waiting to pounce. I could hear her breathing the air in deeply and a low curse issuing from her mouth.

"Wolves," she muttered incredulously.

"Wolves," I quietly rejoiced, my eyes flying open.

In the few seconds it took me to blink, I was sprawled painfully on the hard ground beneath the second story hall window. Little sparkles of glass covered half of my body and littered the yard around me. The next thing I became aware of was the intense heat licking its way through the old wood of the house I lay next to. Unidentifiable noises reached my ears and I struggled to move any portion of my body. Pain engulfed my entire left leg and shot through my lower back. Ignoring this, I stretched my limbs and stumbled my way to the dismal and dark barn.

The same scream rang through the humid air, mixing with other unworldly sounds, aiding my determination. It confirmed the one thing that kept my heart actively beating: she was still alive.

I sped up, pushing through what I was sure to say a broken leg, and threw the barn door aside with all the strength I had left. The dew from the grass mingled with the sweat forming on my brow and the cool night air blew through the empty and long abandoned barn. I could discern nothing through the lightless scene, save for a fallen ladder and a beat up door uncovering a set of rickety stairs. What led me to believe I should take the stairs and what also tightened the lost knot in my stomach was the trail of glistening blood trailing along the floor to said door.

"Bella?" I whispered uncertainly from the stoop of the last stair, squinting to see through the palpable black velvet. Which, of course, was stupid. You couldn't hear anything through the consistent growling, screaming, and thundering. I could barely hear my own heart beat, which was quite the feat, seeing as it was about to burst.

Flames burst into existence not ten feet from where I was perched. The orange glow soon turned to a violent violet smoke, which covered the room in more darkness, yet still bathed the close vicinity in a warming glow. _Now I could _see.

But the first shock of sight wore off instantly and instinct told me to run. My feet – one stable and one on the verge of collapsing – bolted from the fire. I could faintly detect out of the corner of my eye two seemingly dancing white figures, both sparkling lightly in the vibrant glow. I recognized both faster than I could comprehend: Charlie and James, intent on literally tearing each other apart. Something else told me that Jake was not far from my line of sight.

The scream rang true again, although this time, it had more of an urgent and surprised tone to it. How I could tell that in a scream, I have no idea. I rushed toward the sound and ended up in a dirty, musty old silo that was filled with dirt, dust, and an overgrown tree.

"Bella?" I yelled, my voice echoing off the close walls. Squeezing through the metal ladder, I waited for a response and my eyes to adjust.

A muffled and questioning voice answered me, a voice that sounded quite similar to Bella yelling my name through some kind of bond tied around her mouth. Which is exactly what it turned out to be.

"Bella," I sighed in extreme relief, falling to her side. I rested my head on her lap, my knees giving out beneath me. My heart again plummeted when I realized she was recklessly tied to an old decrepit chair, the binds digging into her beautiful delicate skin. Blood was drenched in her lank chocolate locks and seeping down her forehead. Crimson splattered her hands and ankles, creating bracelet outlines of the rough ropes.

Sucking in a breath, I held my head high and looked into the gorgeous eyes I had feared I'd never see again. My lips found home on every inch of her skin while my arms wrapped the most important thing in my life to me. She was alive, with lungs full of air and a beating heart. _Thank God._

Fiercely, I untied the rag preventing my love from speaking articulately and immediately started searching for something to break the ropes tying Bella to the most likely uncomfortable chair.

"Edward," she hissed, "_What are you doing here_?"

"I'm saving you," I snapped, spotting a rusted axe leaning against the wall behind a pile of rotted wood. "I can't seem to make you want to stay with me, seeing as you run away every chance you get."

"It was all for your own good!" she muttered, slumping into the chair. As I lifted the axe out of the debris, Bella gasped. "Where's Junior?" she demanded.

"Relax," I grunted, swinging the axe at the foot of the chair, breaking the rope tying her feet to the wood. "He's in the hands of Marissa's friend, who, quite frankly, seems a lot more . . . level-headed."

She 'humph'ed and kicked her legs about. I guess being tied up for who knows how long could put you in a mood like that. Carefully, I freed her hands from chair and lifted her into my arms once again, feeling complete at last.

"Don't you _ever dare _try and leave me again," I whispered fiercely into her swarm of chocolate and blood curls, burying my face there, where the faint scent of strawberries calmed me.

"I won't. Promise," she said into my neck, her warm breath tickling my dirty skin. "As long as we get out of this alive," she mumbled morbidly.

Her hand in mine, we clambered out of the silo, leaving the painful memories of yesteryear behind and quietly crept our way into the large enflamed room, where mildewed hay caught the fire and an ugly purplish smoke covered every inch of just about everything. As we edged our way closer to the stairway, carefully watching our step for lost flames or rats – or perhaps something much worse, like a crawling hand – the darkness faded and we were met with our two traveling companions: Charlie and Jake, both looking anciently exhausted.

The inferno they were standing over as if in a ritual cast sickening shadows over the newly formed wrinkles embedded in their faces, bags underneath they're eyes. Jacob, I could tell, was very close to passing out on the spot, but I knew he held it together to see through until morning, at least. Charlie was as unemotional and stoic as ever, the same grave man, never changing and yet a little worse for wear.

The scene silently unfolded as Bella broke from my side, embracing both stone figures with strength and vigor. I stood at the edge of the light, staring deeply into the golden flames as Charlie and Jake had moments previously. The finality of it didn't seem to hit me, as if I actually had to step into its warmth to let go of what's been haunting me for two years. But was it really and truly over?

Though we had not yet exchanged any words, the looks in both the vampire's and werewolf's eyes said all that we needed to know; it was impossible to comprehend that what had been the majority of our lives had finally come to an end. It was almost like we didn't know how to go on and live our normal lives. How do you just walk away?

I couldn't stand to see any more of the accursed barn; we trudged hastily outside, into the lightening dawn. My arm was soldered onto Bella's waist; I feared to ever even physically let her go ever again. The peaceful stillness was eerily jarring. Not a sound save for a morning bird interrupted the quiet.

What I could only guess was Jacob's pack stood around the burning house, a similar plume of plum smoke rising into the sky. The picture was mostly a monotone gray, but the deep jade of the grass and the purple stood out against the yellowing sky.

Victoria was dead. James was dead.

Our party of four joined the rest in a loose semi-circle. I brought Bella closer to my side to shield her from the cool wind of the morning. Kissing her temple, I rested my cheek on the top of her head, eternally thankful that we were together, here and now, able to watch this morning evolve. And we stood, tired after a long night and all sharing the nightmarish events of the past two years fresh in our hearts, watching the twin pillars of smoke carry our worries into the dawn of a new day and disappear into the rising sun.

It was over.

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**AN:** And this story is almost over, too. A few more chapters. Definitely be faster than last time. I'm so ashamed of myself. Wow. I'll just stop blabbering and start writing the next chapter like a good author.

Yours,

Laura.


End file.
